


Shipping Tales - a collection

by SilverWield



Category: Illthdar
Genre: Cute, Edging, F/M, Fingering, Fluff, Foreplay, Lemons, NSFW, Romance, Shipping, Smut, couple sex, date, sex scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2019-10-04 19:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17310692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWield/pseuds/SilverWield
Summary: Various stories featuring couples from the Illthdar: Guardians of Las series. Stories are posted in random order.





	1. A Date: Nyima/Tundra

 

 

“A date?” Nyima's doubtful tone made her friends swap looks.

“Yes, a date,” Zercey said.

“You two never spend any time together,” Vyxen added.

“We spend lots of time together.” They did. Sort of. True, there was usually a third person with them, or even a fourth depending on the duty, but they were in the same place at the same time.

“On missions,” Scy pointed out.

“And patrol,” Zercey added.

“So?”

“That's not romantic!” Vyxen managed to shout this through gritted teeth.

Nyima's shoulders shook as she tried not to laugh. “I would hope duties are very unromantic, or else no one would get anything done.”

Vyxen threw up her hands in frustration. “What's the point of match making when the matches don't make anything?”

“That makes no sense,” Zercey said with a laugh. “Does that count?”

Vyxen screwed up her face and stuck out her tongue. “I hate you guys.”

“Nyima,” Scyanatha said, stepping in to take control of the situation. “No matter what you call it, the question you should be answering is: would you like to spend your day off with Tundra?”

When it was put like that. “Yes.”

 

When she was left standing in front of the door that led into the Jasper men's barracks, she felt less confident. She raised her hand to knock and then lowered it again. What if he would rather do something else with his free day?

“Do it!” Vyxen hissed from the floor above. She was leaning so far over the railing that she was in danger of falling.

“I'd rather not have an audience, thank you,” Nyima replied, raising one eyebrow.

“But how will I see the cuteness if I––” Her sentence was cut off as she was yanked back by Zercey and Scy.

“You're welcome!” they called. The sound of the door to their barracks slamming shut followed.

Smiling to herself and shaking her head, Nyima knocked on the door without thought and asked for Tundra when it was opened by another Acolyte.

 

“Hey,” he said coming out and closing the door behind him. “Something wrong?”

“Does there have to be for me to approach you?” Perhaps they hadn't been spending enough time together. She couldn't recall what couples did when she had lived among her tribe. They met, showed off a little, spoke to her father and got married. What happened in the meantime to court one another she had no idea.

“No, I'm just surprised. You're usually with Abaddon and the women.” His reply brought to mind her purpose being there.

“Abaddon's training and the others have duties, but I'm free today, and Date informed me you were as well.”

His eyebrows went up. _Is she asking me out?_ “What else did Date say?” Though he couldn't be too angry if he got to spend time with Nyima. She had a flimsy one-piece on, in a striking shade of red, which complimented her blue...everything. In fact, he wasn't sure he should be looking at her outfit at all, so sent his gaze back up to her eyes, which were brimming with amusement.

“Only that you had nothing to do and if you spent your time training you wouldn't be able to fit through the front door.”

Tundra choked at that. “He's just jealous, scrawny bird.”

Nyima felt they were going off topic; why did that happen whenever she started a conversation with him? “I would very much like if you spent the day with me.”

 _How does she do that?_ Whenever he tried to ask her something straight out he ended up wandering into a conversational cul-de-sac. “Yeah,” he said, when he realised he hadn't answered. “I'd love to.”

“Good. I'll be back in a moment.” She turned and walked at an unhurried pace up the stairs.

Tundra's blue eye was glued to her the whole time. When she was out of sight he slammed his way back into his barracks and yelled for Date, who poked his head out and smiled evilly. “I'm going to kill you when I get a minute. Before that, what do I do? Nyima just asked me out on a date!”

“Should you be asking a dead man for advice?” Date smirked.

“Date!”

 

~*~*~

 

“So,” Tundra started, then realised he had no clue what he was going to say. He could see Nyima trying not to smile out of the corner of his eye and shrugged, chuckling. “Did you have something in mind to do today?” He settled for small talk, since most of his attempts at more intimate conversation were typically met with a wall of silence, or in a few cases _ice_.

“Not really,” she said. “I had several suggestions thrown at me, but everything seemed very contrived.” She pulled a face at that and he could practically hear what the others would've said.

“Don't tell me: flowers and candy, dinner and dancing and to finish a romantic walk along the beach.”

When she began laughing he knew he'd nailed it. It also struck him that her laugh was something he'd rarely heard. She was often amused, couldn't not be with friends like hers, but she didn't snicker like Vyxen, or giggle, chuckle and titter like Zercey, Abaddon and Scy. It seemed Nyima reserved her laughter, much like she did everything else, but when it did come it was as direct as the rest of her personality.

“The beach,” she echoed shaking her head. “No. I did have a mind to buy a board and some playing pieces.” The look she gave him was edged with calculating intent. “I thought I might teach you how to play.”

He knew what game she spoke of. It was the same one she had tried to teach him, Zercey and Lerki while away on a mission. Since returning he'd often heard her engaged in a match while on duty. The effort required to mentally visualise and recall multiple moves and token locations was too much without purpose. “With a real board I'd be more of a challenge for you,” he said with certainty.

“You are already,” she said, shooting him an amused look. “But, I find I quite like that about you.”

He stood staring after her, surprised and pleased at her words, until she looked over her shoulder at him and he remembered he was supposed to be going with her, then hurried to catch up.

 

~*~*~

 

“You said two gold for the board, not three.” The look on Nyima's face said just how unimpressed she was with what she was hearing.

The trader grinned broadly. “Pretty, if I give it to you for two then the next person comes along will want it for one and how will I make any profit that way?” His laugh was goat-like. Apt, since he was a goat borrower.

“I hate shopping,” she sighed.

Tundra choked back a laugh; she really wasn't like other women. “Five for the board and the pieces,” he said, pointing to the pouch the trader showed them, which contained a bunch of small carvings.

“No, no,” he shook his head, nearly taking out part of his display when his horns caught on something. “The pieces are worth more; you can't play without pieces.”

“We can't play without a board either,” Nyima pointed out with dwindling patience. Why did every creature in Illthdar feel the need to torment her? Just that morning D'nag bit her ankle for no apparent reason, and now this one was being extra mercenary despite them having previously agreed on a price.

“Alsea, are you attempting to con my friend?” Raemina appeared from around the side of the stall and eyed the trader.

“Raemina! Beautiful!” Alsea's face lit up. “I'm only trying to make some gold. You understand?”

Raemina tilted her head at him and tucked a loose strand of lilac coloured hair behind her ear.

Alsea's muzzle wrinkled. “Ok, five for the lot, but I want a kiss too!”

Nyima's eyebrows rose and Tundra made a noise of confusion. Raemina smiled and pressed her lips to the top of his head.

“There you go, now be good.” She smiled at him as he handed over the board and pieces.

“I think he has a thing for you, Raemina,” Tundra chuckled, as he tucked the board under his arm.

“Thank you,” Nyima added. “He was being very difficult.”

“It sounded like it, so I am glad to help.” Raemina eyed the board and velvet pouch. “What are you going to do with them, if I might ask?”

“It's a game. I hadn't played for some time, but recently I did and remembered how much I enjoy it,” Nyima replied. “If you like I can teach you as well, but not today.” She glanced at Tundra and smiled.

“I would like that,” Raemina said.

The couple departed soon after and Raemina headed back to where she had left Rhovan haggling over a book of potion recipes.

 

~*~*~

 

“Can't you just let me win once, so I can get a grip on it?” Tundra threw himself back in the armchair and crossed his arms, having lost for the fifth time in a row. They were in the Order of Mana's common room, which had low tables, comfy chairs and quiet corners, perfect for the pair to play the strategy game Nyima bought.

She shook her head, beads on the end of her braids clicking together. “That wouldn't be fair,” she said. “However would you learn?”

“You're enjoying beating me way too much,” he chuckled.

“Of course,” she replied, smiling. “Another game?”

Tundra watched her set up the pieces again. She looked happy and carefree, the serious expression she usually wore absent for the moment. She explained the rules of the game and how each piece moved, and then proceeded to beat the crap out of him at every turn. He found her concentration and competitiveness desirable, even if it was a blow to his ego to constantly lose.

“Who did you used to play this with?” he said, as he made his opening move.

“Everyone,” she shrugged. “I don't think there was a single person over the age of five who didn't play.”

Tundra hummed, his fingers still pinching the playing piece. Then he stilled as her words penetrated. “Wait. You've been playing this game since you were _five?”_ _She's a chess master._

Nyima shook her head and he relaxed, but then she said, “My first game was played when I was six.”

 _Six!_ He groaned. “You're like a grandmaster then.”

She laughed. “No. I'm sure with the right incentive you could beat me.”

What did that mean? Sometimes she said things, or looked at him a certain way, and he was sure she was hinting at something, but then it turned out to be completely innocent and he felt like a pervert for having assumed wrong. “What do you mean?” He decided to go for the direct approach, that way if he had misunderstood he looked like an idiot for half a minute and not half an hour.

“Exactly that. If you win you may claim a prize.”

She spoke plainly. Her expression was neutral. So why did he get the feeling she wasn't talking about a pat on the back or hearty handshake?

“Any prize?” He felt like a creep for even asking. Of course it wasn't going to be anything like what he was thinking.

“Within reason,” she replied and he immediately smirked. “Within reason,” she repeated more sternly, reading his expression correctly.

Tundra was still poised over the table, not really having put much thought into his move or strategy. He looked at it and put it back in its starting position, then eyed the board, picturing previous moves she had made and deciding to start with an entirely different piece.

“It seems you're motivated to play properly,” Nyima commented, a satisfied smile on her face.

 

“Hey, what are you guys up to?” Vyxen's greeting was dripping with suggestion as she draped her arms over the back of Nyima's chair and looked down at the table between them, a cheeky smile on her face. When she saw the board and playing pieces she grimaced. “Seriously? This is better than all my awesome ideas?”

“Your ideas weren't fitting,” Date commented, coming to stand next to the table and eyeing the board. “That was a mistake,” he pointed out as Nyima moved a piece. When Tundra didn't respond as expected, his feathery brows came together in a frown. “What game are you playing? I assumed it was chess.”

“Not chess,” Tundra muttered, his concentration on the game and potential prize at the end of it. “Go away.”

Vyxen snickered.

“I could set up a four person version if you'd like to join us?” Nyima said to Vyxen.

“I'll pass on that, thanks for the offer.” Vyxen was amused at Nyima's method for getting them to leave, and took the hint. “Oh well, guess we'll just have to leave these two to their game and keep looking for Rhys. Come on.” She grabbed Date's arm and pulled.

“Teach me this,” he said to Nyima as he was dragged away.

“You'll be setting up classes soon,” Tundra joked, as she frowned and wavered between two pieces. His eye widened. _Is she stuck?_ She placed hers and removed one of his. _That'd be a no._

 

Lanterns were lit as the night drew in around them, the atmosphere in the common room grew quieter, as people gathered about the room either left or chose to chat in quieter voices. Tundra and Nyima were still playing the same match. Tundra was amazed he was still holding out and, at times, it looked like he was going to win. Then Nyima would rally and put him back on the defensive. It was frustrating, but he found he was enjoying himself as well. He'd also learned quite a bit about her, throwing out questions that broke her concentration. He found out her father was the one who'd played that first game with her, and that he hadn't let her win either, but it was her mother who she played with most often.

As they'd eaten from plates filled with tit-bits he'd fetched from the Brewery, he learned her people mainly used a method of cold cooking to purify their meats and this was why she was so unused to anything hot. She'd told of her playmates, the other tribe children. When he'd teased her about one of them being a boyfriend she'd pulled a face, which told him he'd misunderstood something, but she'd then put him on the defensive with the game and he'd had to pay attention to it instead.

He talked about himself as well, though there wasn't much good to tell after he'd been kidnapped by the Lim Tu. It was all training and various forms of cruelty, so he switched focus back to her, though she spoke of her life only up to a point. Then he came up against that wall again, and as much as he wanted to peer over it, he was enjoying their time together and didn't want to spoil things.

He moved a piece on the board and waited for her turn.

Nyima shook her head and sat back. “You win,” she said, waving her hand over it.

Tundra looked, not realising what he'd done. He'd blocked in the piece she'd called the chief on three sides. “He could still move out the way,” he said. _What am I saying?_

“No,” she replied. “Not even a chief could survive such a thing.” Her brows pinched, but then her expression cleared. “When you have a goal to work towards you are a much better player. I'll remember that in future.”

 _The goal! The prize!_ He willed himself not to smile. “Right,” he said, in a very serious voice. “So, what do I get for winning?”

Nyima's smile crept across her face. “What would you like?”

A million and one ideas exploded in his mind at that, but he knew there was no way she'd let him do a million of them. That left one. Would she be offended? Should he ask, or just do it?

She sighed and shook her head at him, then moved off the chair to kneel in front of the table, where she started gathering up the playing pieces. He'd hesitated too long yet again, it seemed. No, he'd spent all day trying to win and he wasn't going to let the opportunity pass now it had arrived. He kneeled beside her and put his hand over hers as she made to grab a game piece. “A kiss,” he said, staring at the side of her face intently.

“Dating is a very strange concept,” she said, not turning to look at him. “My people meet, decide they like each other and get married, providing the chiefs approve.”

He wasn't expecting this. He thought she'd smile and offer up her mouth. “You said you were betrothed,” he recalled, wondering about the person she liked enough to marry.

“I also said my father was odd,” she said quietly. “Arrangements drawn out over years were not common.” She looked at him then. “Perhaps he knew my life wouldn't follow the typical path.”

His heart thumped. He noticed her flushed cheeks and thought maybe her heart was beating as hard as his. She licked her lips and his eyes were drawn to them. The hand he held felt delicate and fragile, her skin cool to the touch.

“I'm glad it didn't,” he said in a low voice. “Otherwise I wouldn't have met you.” He closed the distance between them, caressing her lips with his, cautious in his approach. When he felt her lean into him, placing one hand on his thigh to brace herself, he grew bolder, raising his other hand to cup the nape of her neck as he teased her lips, urging them to part.

The surrounding noises faded away as they lost themselves in each other, trading deep kisses and a lighter grazing of lips.

When they finally drew apart Tundra was pleased to note Nyima looked very flushed, her plumped lips tilted up in a sultry smile. She turned her face away from his and took her bottom lip between her teeth, which made him wonder why he hadn't thought of doing that. “That was more than one kiss,” she said after a moment, her voice soft.

“I said _a_ kiss,” he replied, his own voice sounding husky to his ears. “If you want to split hairs, you could've given me your hand instead of your mouth.” He leant in and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and whispered, “But I'm really glad you didn't.”

She ducked her head and smothered a laugh. “I think I would like to do this again another day.”

He drew back, surprised, but eager, then realised she meant the board. “Oh, you mean play? Sure.”

“That as well,” she replied evenly, rising up and collecting the rest of the things together. She reached over to her chair and withdrew several pieces that were stuck down the side of the seat, then said goodnight.

Tundra eyed the armchair after she left wondering how the game pieces ended up there...

 


	2. A Warm Reception: Nyima/Tundra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of something

Nyima flicked aside the beads trailing from her belt as she took the seat furthest from the fireplace. It was unfortunate that in the depths of winter those around her required warmth and heat.

The common room in the Order of Las was full of small, chattering groups or the odd couple enjoying the peaceful lull after the attack from the mana wasted hoard. Her friends were on duty, which left her at a loose end, sitting listening to conversations and unpicking the complex language of Illthdarian. Her understanding was decent, but her conversation lacked. She was tired of Amira always correcting her and making her feel like a fool. _I will study harder._

“Mrauw.” Nyima's trekadisk, D'nag, leapt onto the back of the armchair and knocked the top of her head with his, as both a greeting and a way of getting attention.

“I see you,” she replied, reaching up to caress the tan spotted cat, surprised it was being affectionate. Something slimy dropped into her palm and her lips twisted as she lowered her hand. “Must I be thanking you?” she commented faintly, staring at the wet rag. “What thing is this?” The trekadisk seemed to have an obsession with undergarments, and judging from the size of the item, today was no different. “I take this, I guess.” She rose from her seat, trying to act casual. It was awkward enough trying to shrug off D'nag's penchant amongst her friends, let alone having to share it with the rest of the Order.

“Off already? I was just about to join you.”

Nyima looked over at the black-haired man hopping his way between seating and tables. Tundra was injured during the attack by the hoard and broke his leg. His friend, Lerki, set and encased it in a cast made of wood. He didn't seem bothered by the injury. Every time she saw him he had an amused smile on his face as though he knew a big secret and was waiting for someone to ask about it. She did a double take every time she saw him – he looked so like her people with his black hair, blue, slanted eyes and fair skin. He was muscular and solid, but on the short side, which was the only detail that stopped her outright asking if he came from her world. He likely wouldn't believe her even if she had the language to phrase her question right. The Aetumuhs changed her appearance to blue skin and hair when she joined them. Only her eyes remained the same pale blue colour. She smiled at him and asked, “Why?” She hid the soggy bundle behind her back. The two were recent acquaintances and apart from their similar skills, she couldn't see why he would seek her out.

“Lerki is on a mission with Zercey and Scyanatha, Seth's training and Date is...somewhere,” he finished with a vague frown. “Actually, I should go find him.”

“He is a worrying for you.” She noted this before.

Tundra nodded. “He has issues.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but no more was forthcoming. She shrugged, it wasn't her place to pry. “You come to me...?” she pressed, waiting for an answer.

He cleared his throat and shrugged. “You're a skilled ice magic user, and I thought I could learn a few things from you.” He added something under his breath, but she didn't catch it.

“I do training,” she replied, knowing the words were inadequate, but not knowing which ones to add.

Tundra looked hopeful and asked, “I could train with you sometime?”

She nodded, then looked around, wondering what else they might have to say to each other.

Tundra shifted from side to side and winced. “So, err, I could help you out with something in return, as payment.”

“That not needed,” she replied. There wasn't anything she could think of that he could give her.

“I could help you learn Illthdarian,” he offered. “I picked it up pretty quick, so I know a few shortcuts.”

Her posture stiffened. She didn't like having it pointed out that her language skills were lacking. She never had to learn any language beyond the basics. Her  _cissuhan_  gave her orders and as long as she knew what “kill, attack, defeat” meant then she didn't need to understand more. She knew what people were saying, but answering was harder than it looked. Tundra's offer was kind, but it embarrassed her too. “That is – to – you not––” She stopped and hissed a frustrated breath, balling her fists at her sides. “No.”

“You sure?” His smile was warm and teasing, but also not welcome.

“Yes.”

“Yes, you want help or yes you're sure?” One side of his mouth quirked up and Nyima found her gaze drawn to it.

“Yes – I – no. Umm...” Her eyes lifted to meet his and took in his amusement. As she stared she could feel awareness growing between them. She was drawn to this man. He was attractive and interesting. This was also not welcome.  _I have a mission. This isn't right._  “I be going now.” She tore herself away and stepped back, treading on D'nag's tail. The animal yowled and scratched her ankle, making her hop forward and almost crash into Tundra. “I need to being going now.” She rebounded off him and hurried away, cheeks a brilliant shade of blueberry.

 

Sky-blue eyes following her progress, Tundra couldn't help note the sway of her hips thanks to the beads on her belt swinging in tandem. He didn't have time to react to her knocking into him, but the brief contact left his interest piqued. He eased into her vacant chair, noting it was stone cold. “Very cool,” he punned without thought. He frowned at the wet splat on his arm and looked down to see something got stuck between it and his crutch. He pulled it out, puzzled to find it was a pair of panties. He looked to where Nyima was still visible. “Huh.”

 

 


	3. A Frosty Love Potion: Tundra/Nyima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When High Elder Uwe tries to drug Nyima with a love potion, Tundra steps in and takes it instead. What ensues is a hilarious, yet annoying day for Nyima with a bittersweet end.

“Can you do it or not?” Uwe leaned nonchalantly against the counter and folded his arms, waiting for Phanuel's reply. His rust coloured eyes scanned the room with mock boredom, while his mind ran through his list of conquests in the Order: there were several with tick marks beside their names, a few still playing hard to get and then there were the ones he'd not attempted due to their unique physiology. He was banking on Phanuel's blending skills making that a non-problem.

“Why should I?” Phanuel replied in a genuinely bored tone. He had zero benefit to assisting the Order lech in his bed-hopping pursuits. He grabbed a length of ribbon to tie back the ends of his shoulder-length, dyed hair to stop them drooping into a formula pot.

“Because it'll make me happy,” Uwe said, grinning toothily. “Besides, I'm sure you can find other uses for the potions after you know they work.”

“You're volunteering to be a test subject?” This was something Phanuel did find interesting. Being an aufhocker, Uwe would be harder to poison if something went wrong, and if it went right... “Done.”

“I knew you'd see things my way.” He handed over a page of names, a sinister smile on his face.

Scanning them quickly, Phan chuckled. “I see why you need a potion. Not only are most of these women immune to your 'charms', but they're also physically incompatible with you.”

Uwe waved a hand airily. “Minor details, which you'll see to. Let's start with her.” He stabbed a finger at a name near the middle of the page.

“Are you sure? I thought you'd have gone for Vyxen Allaway first.” Everyone in the Order knew Uwe had a thing for the silver-haired half-blood, and was rebuffed every chance she got.

Uwe shook his head, sandy hair fluttering. “If you can get it to work on her,” he said, referring to the woman he'd chosen, “then Vyxen will be easy.”

Phanuel shrugged. “It's your funeral.”

 

After Uwe left, Phanuel set about collecting the ingredients to craft a love potion that would work on Nyima of Jasper Order. Why Uwe thought she was a good starting point for the list of difficult conquests wasn't his business – the woman wasn't even a typical ice elemental like those known in Illthdar. Phanuel would mix the potion and note its effect and then move onto the next one. If nothing else, it was a chance to see how certain ingredients affected her.

“Let's see,” he murmured, moving to a cupboard and looking for possibilities. “Since it's for an ice elemental a pot of snow will act as the base.” He grabbed the bowl and checked the contents. There was no concern the eternal snow would melt, but it could be contaminated by absorbing the scent of other things. It seemed fine, with no discolouration. “What else?” he mused, scanning the shelves. “Obviously a power source, else the whole thing is pointless.” He grabbed a mana gem and added it to the table. This was followed by broken fractals. “She's not quite like our elementals, so this should work to make the adjustment.”

Since many of his potions worked using herbal alchemy, Phanuel couldn't leave it at that; these ingredients alone would make a completely different potion. No. He needed a flower, and he knew just the one. “There you are!” He held up a snap rose. The blue flower was still in bud, not having been near a cold enough source to flower. It was one of a type used in locator and tracking spells and wasn't simply for finding Uwe a lover. Applying it to the other ingredients would ensure that when Nyima drank the potion she would be drawn to him. “And that's it!” Phanuel gathered up everything and began the process of combining it into one.

 

“Damn it,” he muttered, looking at the pitiful amount of liquid that was the result. “Not nearly enough.” He looked around for more snow, but came up empty. “Need more fluid,” he half-sang under his breath while he hunted through the cupboards. “What's this crap?” He held a pink-toned bottle up to the light. It was missing a label, but the bubbles inside were heart shaped. “Essence of lust?” he assumed. “That'll work.”

Having tipped it into the mixing bowl with the other ingredients, Phanuel gave it a stir and grinned as heart shaped bubbles floated up. They were two-tone: blue and pink. “Guess that worked.”

 

“Guess I have excellent timing,” Uwe said from the doorway.

Phanuel jumped. “I thought I was sending it to you once I finished,” he said, going to another cupboard and selecting a glass bottle to decant the potion into. It had a swirled effect and looked lovely once it was filled with the blue and pink mixture. Specks of mana gem bobbed about among the glittery snowflakes and heart-shaped bubbles. _Quite a potion, if I do say so myself._

“You know me and patience,” Uwe joked, holding his hand out for the bottle. “How pretty,” he remarked in a dry tone. “You couldn't have made something more physically appealing for her to drink?”

“You'll just have to put a cover over it then,” Phanuel snarked, thoroughly fed up of Uwe's attitude. He was only helping to see what the potion did to Nyima. “You both have to drink it if you don't want her icing your dick – it should protect you from her aura.” He threw a leather pouch at Uwe and turned his back, going to a large crystal ball and waving his hand over it.

“ _Should,”_ Uwe replied sarcastically. “That's comforting.”

“You wanted to do experimental magic; this is it.” The surface of the ball clouded then cleared to reveal a blue-skinned woman, dressed in swathes of yellow fabric, standing beside her teammates chatting. “She's in the Sanctuary.” Uwe's footsteps faded rapidly into the background and Phanuel rolled his eyes and thought how amusing it would be if Nyima _did_  freeze the aufhocker's favourite body part off.

 

~*~*~

 

“There you are! I've been looking all over for you!” Uwe halted before Nyima, who glanced to Scy and Vyxen. “Yes, you,” he confirmed, pointing at her.

“You seem very out of breath, Uwe,” Scy commented, smiling mischievously.

“I've been running,” he replied, in no mood to play with the tall and fiery Aos Si.

“And you've got such little legs, too,” Vyxen whispered from behind the safety of Nyima and Scyanatha's backs, referring to Uwe's most hated physical attiribute.

Scy tittered, laughter like ringing bells.

Nyima's lips tilted upwards in amusement. “What can I do for you, Uwe?” she said maintaining a polite tone, though like the others in her team, she found Uwe less than endearing.

“Phanuel wants you to drink this,” he replied, thrusting the covered bottle into her hand. “It's a thing...for something,” he added with a vague hand wave.

“Phanuel sent _you_ to give an elixir to Nyima?” Scy took charge of the situation and Uwe realised it wasn't the best timing to hand over the potion when her bossy friend was around. There was also the added issue of Vyxen being present, who he was planning on dosing with her own tailored potion if this one worked out.

“Problem with that?” he replied, eyes sliding away from hers.

“No,” Nyima interjected, used to being given strange potions. “But, I cannot say the effect. I am going to a mission.”

Uwe held his hand out for the bottle. “I'll take it and you can do the thing when you're back,” he said, shooting her his most charming smile.

She shook her head, holding onto it. “I keep it and tell Phanuel later.”

“There isn't a problem with that, is there, Uwe?” Scy levelled him with a look that was both amused and dangerous.

“No.” His smile grew rigid as he about-faced and headed back the way he came.

“Phew!” Vyxen appeared the moment he was gone, rubbing her pale arms to chase away the chill that came from being too close to Nyima's icy aura. “Wonder what that was about?”

Nyima stared dubiously at the bottle in her hand. “Hmm.”

 

~*~*~

 

Not due to leave until the following morning, Nyima and the others returned to Seth's cottage in the and told those present what happened.

“Sounds like the shifty shit is up to something to me,” Seth said, shaking his head and making the jewel in his ear clink as it swung on its chain. “Since when does he play errand boy, ever?”

“Never,” Date replied bluntly, dark gaze fixed on the bottle set on the table. “He always sends others to do his dirty work.”

“Unless his dirty work is the other kind,” Tundra added, crossing his muscular arms, lips twisting wryly.

“Dirty work?” Date's mother, Ona, repeated in a quiet voice, turning pale.

“It cannot be that,” Nyima said, shooting her lover a reprimanding look. “Uwe is an aufhocker. He does not like cold.”

“How do you know that?” Tundra said, smirking with amusement when she rolled her blue eyes at him.

“Because last time he touch my arm he lose skin from it.” The memory was both pleasant and disgusting for her: pleasant in that it stopped Uwe from ever bothering her again, but disgusting in that she had to go peel his skin off.

“Ew, gross,” Vyxen pulled a face and made a gagging noise, “he touched you!”

 

“Who touched who?” Zercey commented, entering the cottage and shoving her green tresses back from her face as they were blown about by the wind.

“Uwe touched Nyima,” Vyxen replied, repeating the story for her benefit.

“Ouch!” Zercey said, brows pinching as a thought occurred to her. “How come that doesn't happen with us?”

“You're warm blooded,” Nyima guessed, shrugging.

“Do you ever get stuck to her, Tundra?” Vyxen turned to him, her expression both curious and calculating.

“All the time,” he replied straight-faced, though he couldn't stop one side of his mouth quirking up when he spotted Nyima's cheeks turning a deeper shade of blue when she blushed. “Any thoughts on this potion?” he said, returning to the original subject, while Vyxen snickered.

“It's been stuck in this pouch, so we can't even see what's in it,” Seth said, snatching it up from where Date was still trying to bore a hole through the covering. “Doesn't smell too bad,” he added, taking a sniff and then sneezing.

“If Lerki were here he'd be able to tell us,” Zercey said with certainty. “He, Abaddon and Inari are missing all the fun being on patrol.”

“Ok, if it's a potion for Nyima it must be ok for ice magic users, right?” Tundra reasoned, taking it from his friend's hand and knocking the contents back before anyone could stop him.

“Tundra!”

“Jingyi!”

“You idiot!”

“Man, what is wrong with you?!”

He wiped his mouth. “Tastes like...” he trailed off as he tried to think what it reminded him of, then grinned as he figured it out.

“What?” Zercey wanted to know if it was something familiar then they could figure out why Phanuel was giving it to Nyima.

Tundra's single, blue eye slid over to Nyima. She stared him down, daring him to finish his sentence. “Juniper berries,” he said at last, holding her gaze until she blushed again.

“That's what gin's made from,” Zercey said, taking the bottle from him and a cup from Ona. She tipped the dregs into it and drew back when a solitary heart-shaped bubble floated up. “Er, Tundra,” she said, as the others began to snigger, “I think you just drank a love potion.”

“Huh?” He turned away from his staring contest with Nyima. “A love potion? Why the fuck would Uwe give my Goddess that?”

“Your what?” Vyxen's eyes looked like saucers. “Did everyone else hear that, too?”

“Definitely a love potion,” Date seconded, scowling. “I doubt he's in love with Nyima.”

“You doubt my heart's true course?” Tundra said in a stern voice, glaring at Date.

“Not you, dear,” Scy said in a soothing manner. “We're talking about Uwe, remember?”

“I told you he totally loved her,” Vyxen hissed to Zercey. “No way would he talk like that if he didn't have those feelings.”

“It's a love potion,” Zercey reasoned, equally quiet. She then raised her voice to address the object of Tundra's affections. “Nyima, maybe you should take him somewhere while we figure this out?”

“Spend the day with my Goddess?” Tundra leapt to his feet and crossed the room to take Nyima's hand. “Nothing would make me happier.”

The others started laughing at his enthusiasm and flowery way of speaking.

“Please fix him,” Nyima said, frowning as she was dragged towards the door. “Soon.”

 

~*~*~

 

“What does my Goddess desire? Name it and it's yours.” Tundra threw an arm out and grinned at her.

“Silence,” Nyima replied, already tired of his over the top declarations. “I hope they can fixing you,” she sighed.

“You don't want my love?” Tundra's shoulders slumped and he finally released his hold on Nyima's hand. “But, I love you.”

Nyima fussed with the trailing end of her yellow top, pleating it into folds and then releasing it again. If Tundra punched her in the chest it would hurt less. “I wish that is true,” she replied in a low voice, “but it is the potion.”

“Maybe it only reveals what I can't say,” he replied, smiling. The sunlight highlighted the orange orb where his left eye used to be. The polycarbide plate over part of his face looked garish in stark daylight, but Nyima only noticed his boyish smile.

She sighed and smiled back. “No more 'Goddess',” she said in as stern a voice as she could manage at that moment.

“Very well, my juniper berry.” Tundra winked and held his hand out to her.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Long day,” she predicted, taking hold of him and letting him lead her towards a nearby cafe.

“I hope it never ends,” he said in a dramatic fashion, holding a chair out for her to sit down.

She couldn't deny the attention was nice, if only Tundra would start sounding more like himself and not a love-sick puppy.

“Darling, whatever you want,” he said, making a sweeping gesture to the menu she held.

Having heard Seth and Scyanatha refer to each other by endearments, Nyima thought it was something she would like. Now he was doing it, she discovered how annoying it was. “Jingyi, you will be giving me anything?”

“Yes.” He reached across the table and snatched up one of her hands, holding it tightly. “What can I do for you, my dearest love?”

She reminded herself it was the potion making him act like an idiot. “Call me Nyima,” she said in a calm voice.

“Oh. Sure.” He smiled at her again and she couldn't help but smile back. “Anything else, Nyima?”

She chuckled and shook her head, then sobered. “You all right?” She hadn't thought to ask if the effects of the potion were doing anything else to him. “Thank you for drinking that. Uwe is a dirty mind.”

Tundra's expression darkened. “I should rip his spine out for trying to take you from me.”

As flattering as that was, she took hold of him. “No. The Order does kill for that.”

“You do love me,” he said, relaxing in his seat again.

She couldn't answer, not with him in that state. It wouldn't have been fair to either of them, especially if he remembered everything that happened once the spell was removed. “Let's eat. Zercey will be fixed everything when we go back.”

“There's no rush,” he replied. “I want to treat you like the Queen you are.”

“I'm not Queen,” she pointed out. Ordinarily, Tundra had a tendency to say and do things that were amusing to her. She didn't think it was from any effort on his part, he was simply trying to be one thing and failing, but succeeding in being something she found appealing.

Under the spell, she could tell he was trying to be romantic and failing terribly at it.

“Lucky for me, you think that's funny,” he said, drawing her from her thoughts.

Nyima sighed and shook her head. “You trying too hard.”

“You don't think I'm being sincere?” Tundra's eye glistened with an unshed tear. He pushed his chair back and dropped to his knees in front of her. “I will prove my love to you, right here in front of everyone!”

Her head darted around as her cheeks flushed, noticing people pointing and whispering. “Get up,” she hissed, grabbing his elbow and finding him immovable.

“I will not! Not until everyone knows how much I love you!” His hand went to his wrist-guard and he withdrew a small pouch. Delving inside he triumphantly held up a ring and said in a loud voice, “Nyima, will you marry me?!”

There were noises of amusement alongside clapping from the tables around them, as Nyima buried her head in her hands and groaned softly. “Jingyi.”

“I was going to give it to you as a gift for Twelve Nights, but then I realised you don't wear rings. It's fate that I give it to you now!” He sprang up and took her hand, sliding the ring onto the third finger easily. “See how well it fits! We're meant to be together!”

Grinding her teeth, Nyima got to her feet more slowly and grabbed his wrist. “A word,” she muttered, dropping some coins onto the table to pay for their meal.

“'A word', huh?” he echoed, grinning. “I know what that really means.”

“You don't.”

 

~*~*~

 

It was obvious they couldn't be out in public; she was liable to kill him from sheer embarrassment. Nyima led Tundra to the cottage and around the back to the garden where her ice hut was set up, shoving him through the canvas flap covering the doorway.

“I said I knew what you meant,” he said, turning and trying to embrace her. “My Goddess is so happy she cannot hold back wanting to consummate our love.”

Placing her hands against his chest, she held him at arm's length. _“Stop!_ ” Her temper was fraying. The temperature in the hut dropped several degrees. She caught sight of the ring on her finger and frowned at it. “Why is this a marriage?”

Tundra paused and shrugged. “Tradition.”

“Not mine.” It was a pretty enough thing. Rectangular in shape, though it had soft edges, and the stone was a rich and vibrant blue shade, but it meant nothing to her. The public humiliation was worse and she knew he didn't want to marry her. Trying not to let her hurt show she said, “Go back in.”

“What? Why? I want to be with you.” He tried to draw her into his arms and she pushed him away.

“Leave me alone.”

Tundra's face froze and his eye misted over. “You don't love me?” he whispered.

“Not this you.” She blinked back frost trying to obscure her vision. When it cleared he was gone.

 

~*~*~

 

“Phanuel!” Tundra booted the door to the laboratorium open and stormed in. “Whatever that fucking potion is you made up undo it!” He staggered to a halt as he took in the sight of Seth holding Phanuel against a wall by the throat.

“That's what we are in the process of working out,” Date answered for him, standing nearby and twirling a dagger between his fingers with studied nonchalance. “It seems Phanuel isn't quite sure what the final ingredient is.”

“Then make something so my heart stops hurting,” Tundra declared, face twisting with dismay. “Nyima doesn't love me!”

Seth and Date snorted, and even Phanuel managed a strangled snicker.

“If you've been talking to her like that I'm not surprised,” Date countered. “You sound like a clown.”

“All he's missing is the red nose and make up,” Seth added.

“I think make up is more Date's department,” Tundra shot back unamused, folding his arms.

Date made a rude hand gesture and turned back to Phanuel. “So, you were telling us what went in that potion you made for Nyima.”

“We'll get to how much of a scumbag rapist enabler you are after you fix Tundra,” Seth said, dropping the man to the floor where he collapsed and sat coughing.

“Uwe is the one who wants to fuck her,” Phanuel justified in a whining voice.

“Don't talk about her like that!” Tundra shot a burst of ice that exploded beside Phanuel's knee. “Next time that's your head.”

“He wouldn't be able to if you didn't make the potion and you know it,” Date seethed in a dangerous voice.

“Where are the girls?” Tundra glanced around, surprised.

“Women,” Date corrected. “They're looking for Uwe.”

“Good.” He would bet they were giving him hell. “So, potion?”

“We've got the ingredients over there,” Seth said, pointing to the table. “Only problem is this idiot added some kind of liquid to it and doesn't know what.”

“The label was missing,” Phanuel replied, getting to his feet and brushing his tunic down. “It had heart-shaped bubbles and that seemed to tie with the effect needed.”

“To enable a rapist,” Date finished the sentence and waited until Phanuel nodded and looked away, trying to hide his guilt.

“I think it's essence of lust,” he said at last.

“Feel lusty, Jingyi?” Seth said in a jokey voice, his orange eyes crinkling at the corners.

“If he did he certainly wouldn't be here,” Date pointed out. If there was one thing that couple didn't need help with it was sexual chemistry.

“Yeah, you two didn't help in that department in the first place,” Seth laughed, echoing Date's thoughts aloud.

Date pulled a face. “We don't need to go into that.” He turned to Phanuel. “We just need to know how to undo this stupid piece of work you did.”

“It's experimental magic,” Phanuel said to them, not for the first time either. “I don't know how to undo it, or even if it does undo. It's why Uwe allowed himself to be a test subject.”

“Wait, how is Uwe the test subject when Nyima was the one being dosed?” Seth was wondering how Uwe would get around Nyima's aura when he couldn't touch her without it hurting.

“He was supposed to drink the potion too and that would protect him from her abilities.”

“You really are sick,” Date said, his lip curling with disgust. “Your word, right now, that you won't help Uwe like this again.”

“Or you'll do what?” Phanuel challenged, drawing himself up to his full height and making his hunch look like a backpack.

“Did you forget I said next time it'd be your head?” Tundra said in a casual voice, beginning to draw together an orb of ice in his hand. In the centre was a golden glow as mana crystalised and transmuted into ice.

“You're just an elf, man,” Seth added, thumping one fist against the other palm. “You might be quick and strong, but we've got magic and we'll get you before you get us.” If it were up to him he'd take out the whole section of the Order where the laboratorium stood; it was better gone than in the hands of a degenerate like Phanuel.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes, as he let them have their way. In truth, he wasn't interested in helping Uwe anyway and this gave him the excuse he needed to refuse next time he asked.

“Asshole.” Tundra let loose the blast into the alchemy cabinet where the potion ingredients were stored.

“Hey!” Phanuel ran to his precious store and whimpered.

“Had to go somewhere,” Tundra said, smirking. He couldn't dissipate his power once it formed; it was partly why he preferred being hands on.

“How am I supposed to craft an antidote without anything to craft with, you idiot?”

 _Oh, right._ Tundra shrugged. “You didn't have all the ingredients anyway.”

“I said I thought the last one was essence of lust, but seeing as everyone disagreed with that, the only thing it could be is essence of love.” Phanuel pulled a nasty face then. “You're lucky your woman and Uwe didn't drink it. You'd have never got her back.”

“Fuck you. She loves me.” Tundra's hand fisted.

“We'll have to see how the girls did with fang-face,” Seth said, ignoring Date's muttered correction. “With any luck he's got some of the potion still and we can figure out an antidote.”

“Or just get your lady love to drink it and everything will be cupcakes and honey again.”

“Get Nyima to drink it and have her act like this moron?” Seth clapped Tundra on the back as they headed to the door. “No thanks.”

“One idiot in the team at a time is enough, thank you,” Date added.

 

~*~*~

 

“We knew you were sick,” Scy said to Uwe, pinned to the wall by her rock shards, “but this is beyond the pale, even for you.”

“I have standards to uphold!” He was unrepentant.

“Making potions to get women in bed? Ew!” Zercey paused from rifling his office desk drawers to cringe. “Nyima would've killed you the second that potion wore off.”

“That's the only downside of her not taking it,” Vyxen said. “Although, I'm so glad she didn't take it because now she can kill you anyway for trying it on without having been touched by you first.” She gagged and shuddered at the thought.

“If it worked other Acolytes would've benefited from it, too,” Uwe pointed out. “Those of mixed physiology who want to be together, but can't, would be able to.”

“That does not excuse what you wanted to do,” Scy said, flinging another stone at him and nicking his cheek. It healed in moments, but that was part of the fun for her.

“Nyima doesn't want to be with you!” Zercey moved to another drawer. Having been told he had a second bottle of the potion, the girls were on a hunt for it to work out an antidote before Tundra turned into a lovesick fool forever.

“A minor point.” Another dart struck him, this time his hand. “Will you stop doing that?!”

“Target practice is important for keeping up one's skills,” Scy replied in a darkly mischievous voice. She smoothed back a strand of blood-red hair and took aim again. “And perhaps it may encourage you to think before you speak.”

“He'd have to have a brain to do that,” Vyxen muttered, moving to a bookshelf and pulling things off, unmindful of the mess and damage she was making.

“Those are expensive.” Uwe complained when a glass ornament shattered.

“Whoops, my bad,” Vyxen snickered, silver eyes filled with malicious amusement. She knocked another couple off for good measure. “You're lucky I can't reach the top shelves,” she added.

“I can.” A dark-skinned hand reached past her and swept everything off. “That what you were aiming for, Venus?” Seth grinned down at the tiny woman.

“ _Miigwech,”_ she replied, thanking him in her native tongue of anishinaabemowin.

“I thought you guys were dealing with Phanuel?” Zercey said, seeing Date enter. Her eyebrows rose when Tundra followed him in. “And I thought you were with Nyima.”

“She doesn't love me,” Tundra sighed, his shoulders slumping further each time he said it. “I proposed and she turned me down.”

“YOU PROPOSED?!” Vyxen's gleeful shriek made Zercey and Seth cover their ears.

“What?” Uwe looked at Tundra with shock. “You're the biggest slut in the Order. If the potion made you want to commit then I don't want it!” He jerked his head to the desk Zercey had finished rifling. “Hidden catch on the underside of the second drawer from the top.”

She felt for the button and smiled when it clicked, revealing a section of the drawer above that dropped down into it. A tiny vial containing the potion was inside.

“For your information,” Tundra said casually, moving to face Uwe, “you're the biggest slut in the Order. I'm just not picky, until now.” He punched Uwe's jaw, knocking him out cold.

“I was having fun with him,” Scy sighed with mock disappointment. “He will be very annoyed when he wakes up.”

“I doubt he or Phan will do anything,” Seth said, gesturing for the ladies to exit before him.

“I doubt Chiyoko would care if she learned what they were doing anyway,” Zercey added, ever the realist. “Then again, she might have to do something if the women of the Order learn about it. Those two have as many enemies as they do fans and the Order is about sixty percent female or neutral.”

“Chiyoko would be screwed!” Vyxen crowed. “We should tell someone!”

“Are you forgetting this is our livelihood?” Date countered, as the group headed through the Order building and out towards the Sanctuary. “You have no idea what it's like trying to earn a living outside of Las.”

“I've lived in the wilderness,” Vyxen argued, having hailed from Alaska. “I'm a survivor.”

Scy intervened. “For now, let us add it to the list of leverage we have against the Order and save it for a time it becomes useful.”

“That sounds like the most sensible thing to do,” Zercey agreed. “Besides, we have to fix lover-boy over there.” She gestured to where Tundra was at the back of the group, dragging his feet.

“She doesn't love me,” he moaned to Seth. “She doesn't want to see me!”

“Oh God.” Seth grabbed at his short, orange hair in frustration. “Give it a break, man. It's just a potion making her not wanna be near you. Normally she can't get enough of your brand of stupidity.”

“You're just saying that to make me feel better!” Tundra grew more dramatic the closer they drew to the cottage and Nyima.

“This guy could do a fair turn at Shakespeare with the way he's talking,” Seth commented to the group, chuckling.

“That's it!” Tundra stopped dead, a bright smile on his face. “I should declare my love with a sonnet!”

The girls broke out into gales of laughter at the thought.

“Please let him!” Vyxen begged through tears of mirth. “I know we have to fix him, but please can he do this first? I'll die if I don't see it!”

“Nyima will kill us if he does!” Zercey giggled back.

“Dude, I'm telling you as a friend, don't,” Seth said, shaking his head.

“Why not?” Date argued, smoothing back the dark feathers on his head. “It couldn't hurt for Tundra to be a little more romantic.”

“Because his lover is Nyima, dear,” Scy reminded him. “If anyone will not take well to sonnets and flowery declarations of love it is her.”

 

Having reached the cottage, the conversation was left there as they all piled in and gave Ona an edited version of events, so as not to worry her.

“My goodness,” she said, pressing a delicate hand to her breastbone, blue eyes wide. “That is terrible.” She sent a quick glance to Tundra and then focused on the women once more. “Is there a way to undo it?”

“We've got the potion, so we were hoping Inari and Lerki can cook up an antidote,” Zercey said, looking to the pair in question.

“It should be a simple matter, once we know all of the ingredients,” Inari stated in a calm tone, their eyes a steady and neutral shade of beige for the moment.

“Phanuel will not let us use his lab, however,” Lerki guessed, having filled in the missing parts of the tale with a little help from the whispering voice of Wind.

 

Kinsa, having returned from a routine trip to the infirmary to check on the state of his broken leg, spoke up from his place in a corner chair. “Would the woman's hut be a sterile enough environment to work?” Date's older brother was watching proceedings with a cynical amusement; Tundra and his woman were an odd couple already, but with the inclusion of a love potion added to one of them, things became ridiculously comical. He almost felt sorry for the man.

Lerki shivered, as though he were already inside the ice house. “Yes,” he said in a doubtful voice.

“You don't sound sure,” Zercey pointed out. “Either it is or it isn't. We need to make sure nothing gets in it and makes Tundra worse.”

“I couldn't possibly feel worse than I already do!” Tundra bemoaned, making theatrical gestures.

“I wish I had a video camera, so I could show this to him later,” Vyxen snickered to Zercey.

“If he remembers he'll be committing hari kiri later,” she joked back.

“Let us go and ask Nyima if she will allow us entry to her hut.” Inari rose majestically, their junihitoe pooling around their feet and flowing like a rippling river as they walked at a sedate pace.

“Some of us have duties,” Scyanatha reminded the rest, looking to Vyxen and Date specifically.

“Aww, come on, Scy. I don't wanna miss the fun.” Vyxen widened her silver eyes and looked up at Scy, who shook her head and laughed.

“Do you wish to annoy Uwe more than you already have done today?”

“Yes.” Vyxen nodded, her short, silver hair floating about her head.

“You should have expected that,” Date said, holding the front door open for them both before following the laughing duo out.

 

~*~*~

 

Inari left the cottage and crossed the garden to where Nyima erected her hut of ice. It was similar to that of a yurt, being circular in shape with a conical roof and a flap of animal hide covering the doorway. They stood in front of the flap and raised their voice just enough to be heard. “I stand without and ask within.”

The flap flew back and Nyima stared at them with wide blue eyes. “How you know that?”

“We know many things,” they replied mysteriously, waiting until she stepped aside to enter.

“But that,” Nyima insisted, blinking as moisture clouded her eyes and frosted over, “ _exact_ greeting for my people.”

“I would expect nothing less to bring you to reply with the current situation,” they said in a soothing voice, moving to the centre of the hut and smiling down at the bailukee pup floating around at knee height. “We may have a solution to Tundra's problem.”

“Good. Do it,” she said, blunt and plonking down on the bed. The room was bare of furnishings besides this; it wasn't a home, it was a cool place to sleep and nothing more. She ducked her head and began fiddling with the ring on her finger.

“We have need for your hut. Phanuel will not permit the antidote to be crafted in his laboratorium.” Inari moved closer and inspected the bauble about the blue-toned digit. “A sapphire. Very fitting. A gem that asks for divine favour.”

Nyima scowled. “Not divine.”

“That would depend on your definition of the word. I fear Tundra finds you divine, indeed.” Their smile was warm and full of mirth.

She didn't understand. _Why can these people not simply have one word with one meaning?_ “Whatever. I am not,” she insisted. “You can have using of my hut.” She got up and made to leave.

“Lerki, also,” they added, tittering with amusement when she pulled a face – the two were not the best of friends.

“Yes.”

“Nyima!” Zercey burst through the flap and skidded to a halt, narrowly missing tripping over the sitourche. “Tundra's trying to kill himself and we need you!”

~*~*~

 

“Fuck, man!”

“Get off me! My love doesn't want me, so I must die!”

“Can someone shut this idiot up?” Kinsa said, though the irony wasn't lost on him, having spoken similar words about his own lost love many times before.

“Stop!” Nyima's stern command made all four men pause, giving Lerki just enough time to encourage his seeds to sprout into vines.

“We need to tie him up, or else he will hurt himself,” Lerki explained.

“I see,” she replied, rolling her eyes at the over-dramatics.

Seth and Kinsa muscled Tundra to a chair, where Lerki bound him with the vines and Nyima froze them for good measure.

“Stop, please,” she said to him, taking a seat opposite and shaking her head, the beads in her blue, braided hair clicking together.

“You don't love me,” he replied, sniffing.

“Not now.” She glanced over at Ona, who was still hugging the wall beside the stove. “You scare Toshiiro's mother.”

“I-I'm all right, really,” Ona said in a shaky voice.

“I know they all look big and scary, but they're pushovers really,” Zercey confided, going over to soothe the emotionally fragile woman. “They wouldn't hurt anyone they love.”

“They sat on him,” Ona whispered back, though her blue eyes crinkled with dawning amusement.

“That's how they show their love.” Zercey's purple eyes were laughing as she giggled back.

“Lerki, go to in my hut,” Nyima told him.

 

With Lerki having left and Tundra subdued, Kinsa hopped his way back to a chair and sat reading while Zercey and Ona set about making dinner for everyone, leaving Nyima and Seth babysitting.

“Where is Abaddon?” She realised she hadn't seen the small, demi-demon all day.

“They hired a stall in the market and they're selling their wares with Imogen's help,” Zercey replied as she bustled about getting together dishes and utensils.

“That's good of her,” she said of the red-haired acrobat. She was a potential new member of their team and spending free time together in a pleasant way was an encouraging sign she would make a good fit.

“Why don't you love me?” Tundra said in a moaning sigh.

“You sound liking Lerki's Wind,” Nyima replied bluntly, patience wearing thin.

Zercey and Ona smothered their amusement and carried on working. Kinsa was less polite and snorted loudly.

“What's everyone laughing at?” Seth returned from the outside toilet and looked around the room curiously.

“Your idiot friend,” Kinsa snarked, licking a finger and turning a page of his book.

He shrugged, not surprised to hear this. “How about we play a game?” Seth offered, trying to think of something to pass the time.

“Nyima, are you allergic to mushrooms?” Zercey couldn't recall everyone's allergies and had to check before each ingredient went into whatever was being cooked. She had a list of half-blood, non-friendly foods pinned up as well.

“Those are slimy.” She didn't know if it was an allergy, but she didn't like the taste or texture.

“Ok, no mushrooms,” Zercey muttered, taking a pencil and adding them to the list.

“Chess or cards?” Seth had gone to get both games without waiting to see if anyone was interested.

“Nyima likes chess,” Tundra said in an adoring way, his eye taking on a lilac tint as he stared at her.

“He's tied up,” Kinsa remarked, turning another page, still pretending not to be interested.

“Cards then,” Seth decided, shuffling and dealing them out. “You'll just have to hold them low down,” he said to Tundra.

 

A couple of hours passed in this fashion. While the trio played cards, Tundra offered Nyima compliments, which she ignored or threw back in his face in annoyance. Eventually, Kinsa, Ona and Zercey joined them and this was the scene that Vyxen, Scyanatha, Date, Imogen and Abaddon returned to.

“Did we walk into something kinky?” Imogen commented, green eyes mirthful and lips twisting wryly on seeing the bindings on Tundra.

“Nyima isn't interested in bondage,” Tundra replied, gaze still fixed on the object of his love.

“Well, I'm learning new things about you guys all the time,” Imogen joked, taking a seat and nudging Nyima with her elbow.

“Ignore him,” Nyima replied, though her cheeks coloured all the same.

As the day wore on, Tundra's single, blue eye took on a purple hue, giving the others cause to worry the potion's effects were becoming permanent.

“Lerki and Inari are making an antidote,” Kinsa said, once the others were brought up to speed. “Unfortunately, there's no rescuing him from his stupidity.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Date commented, taking a seat at the table and dealing himself in, “we managed to cure most of yours.”

“Boys,” Ona reprimanded in a gentle voice when her sons started squabbling.

“How much longer does Inari think they'll be?” Vyxen came to stand behind Nyima and peer over at Tundra. “Wow, he's really not breaking eye contact there,” she said. “For someone with one eye that's pretty impressive.”

“Uncomfortable,” Nyima corrected. She became disturbed by it the longer it went on. It wasn't so much being stared at by him, but how his expression grew more sinister as time passed.

“Oh, hey, is that the ring he gave you?” She grabbed up Nyima's icy hand and admired the jewel.

“You're still wearing it?” Tundra blinked and smiled; it was both endearingly familiar and yet darkly disturbing. “You do love me.”

Everyone had the sense to ignore him by this point, the jokes having grown stale.

“It's pretty,” Vyxen said, tilting Nyima's hand about so the gemstone caught the light.

 

“It shall also be the catalyst for breaking the enchantment upon Tundra,” Inari announced, entering the room with Lerki behind them.

“What? No! I gave her that as a symbol of my unending love and devotion! I won't let you destroy it!” Tundra began struggling against his bonds, which had thawed in the warm room.

“Grab him!” Scy commanded, and the men and Abaddon piled on top of him again, knocking him to the floor.

“Explain quick, Inari. He's not playing around.” Date grunted when an elbow connected with his stomach, his grip on Tundra's arm going lax until Lerki took over and wound more vines about it.

“It's impressive he can even do that seeing as he's tied to a chair,” Imogen commented, fetching a length of rope and tossing it to Seth. “I know rope tricks if anyone's interested.”

With Tundra trussed up like a Christmas turkey and immovable once more, Inari continued their explanation.

“The potion Phanuel crafted is one designed to bridge the species barrier and allow Uwe his way with women he is not physically compatible with.”

Nyima's hands fisted on the table top and she took a deep breath to calm her rising temper. “I will talk to him,” she enunciated in an icy tone.

“They could both do with an added reminder,” Vyxen agreed, having thought the minor punishment they gave out wasn't nearly enough to stop them repeating their sick ways.

“All of the ingredients are infused with mana, making it potent and reacting to those with mana in their blood,” Inari continued over the interruption. “Eternal snow for the base was combined with broken fractals, mana gems and – most importantly – snap roses. This flower has the potential to bring two things together. Without it, the potion would merely be a strength booster for your kind,” he directed to Nyima. “It is worth noting those ingredients for future use.”

“No, thank you,” she replied, choosing to avoid potions in general.

Inari chuckled lightly. “As to be expected when they are abused. However, the final ingredient that is the one causing all the trouble is essence of love.”

Lerki picked up the conversation. “A few drops of it can make anyone love the object of the potion: there are many forms of love. Too much of it can turn dark and to obsession.”

“Which is why our boy here now has a purple eye?” Seth pointed out, having just noticed the color change.

“The ring?” Nyima returned to the original point Inari made, having heard more than enough about alchemy and wishing for them to hurry up and cure her lover.

“He gave it to you at the purest point of his love.” Inari held out their hand for the ring. “It will absorb the effects of the potion.” In their other hand they held up a vial. “This will ensure his body is cleansed.”

“That sounds messy,” Seth joked, though his brow creased with worry.

Abaddon and the women stepped back, trusting Tundra's teammates to deal with him.

“Open up,” Date said to Tundra, as he and Seth grabbed him.

Seth got him in a headlock and Date prised his reluctant jaws apart, so Lerki could tip the mixture down his unwilling throat. Inari placed the ring on Tundra's little finger, as Date forced his mouth closed again and they waited for him to swallow.

“Pinch his nose,” Zercey advised, when he sat there smirking at them.

“You're an idiot, Tundra,” Date seethed, doing just that and taking perverse satisfaction when his friend choked back the liquid and began coughing.

Everyone let go and moved back at once when Tundra convulsed. A purple miasma oozed from his mouth and nose and floated down over his body. It was drawn into the sapphire ring, turning it black.

Once he stilled, Inari stepped forward and removed it, stowing it in their sleeve for the time being.

Unconscious, Tundra was untied and taken out to Nyima's hut to rest in the cool, rather than put to bed inside the tiny bedroom of the sweltering cottage.

With a heavy sense of anticlimax, the group sat down quietly to pick at the meal Ona and Zercey made.

 

~*~*~

 

The team took turns that night keeping an eye on Tundra, waiting for him to wake up – with the exception of Inari, who was exhausted after all their work and went to bed right after dinner.

It was too hot for Nyima to sleep in the cottage, so she didn't mind staying up. She'd be fit for nothing the following day.

Having already sat with Seth, Abaddon and Vyxen, it was near dawn when she nodded a greeting to Date, as he took a seat beside her on the ground beside the hut.

“Have you slept at all?” He noted the slumped shoulders and the slow blinking.

She nodded. “When Seth talks how he makes his clothings,” she replied, trying to rouse herself. “Thread density isn't that interesting.”

Date sniggered. “I believe it,” he said, head tilting slightly in reference to the lemon coloured fabric wound about her. “Have you thought about if this antidote doesn't work?”

She had, but it wasn't something she was willing to entertain.

“You heard Lerki and Inari. Love turned to obsession. You can't deny it with how he was looking at you.” Date didn't want to be a pessimist in this situation, but if Tundra wasn't okay he had the sense they'd have a big problem on their hands.

Nyima rubbed her eyes. “He's going to being better. It weren't never love.”

“How do you know?” He'd seen the two together and, more often than not, wanted to knock their heads together. Tundra put more effort into impressing Nyima than he had with any woman. As for her, Date would have placed money on her not knowing how to smile before he saw Tundra achieve the impossible. “I have seen more of love than you have,” he reminded her.

“I know of true love,” she countered, annoyed.

Date's feathered head tilted, inviting her to continue.

A small smile tweaked one corner of her mouth up. “When my people find love, they know.”

Date opened his mouth to ask if that was the case why she didn't seem to, when a sound from within the hut forestalled him. “Let's see what we have,” he said, getting up and offering her a hand.

 

“Hey, there you are,” Tundra commented as Nyima entered with Date close behind. “You know you need permission to come in, right?” he said to his friend, while in the middle of straightening the bed. He'd woken alone and figured Nyima was on night duty, but couldn't recall when she'd decided to let him back into her bed.

“It's good,” Nyima said, relieved to see him back to normal. “You remember yesterday?”

Tundra's brows came together. “I remember something about a potion Uwe gave you, then...” He trailed off and shrugged. “What?”

“You fucking idiot!” Date darted forward and punched his bicep. “You drank it and turned into a bigger idiot than you already are!”

“Is that possible?” Tundra threw back with a wry smile. “Woah!” He staggered back when Nyima threw herself into his arms. “Hi?” He looked over at Date who made a disgruntled noise and left them to it.

“I'm happy you doing okay.” She hugged him tightly.

“Guess it must've been bad if it's worth a hug,” he replied, sliding his arms around her waist and returning the gesture. “Do I need to say sorry for anything?” He was betting he did.

“No,” she said, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent of fresh rain that was unique to him.

“What was in the potion?” It was for Nyima, he remembered that much. He had a vague recollection of, “Juniper berries?”

“It was to making me Uwe's,” she said quietly. She felt Tundra's arms tense and she drew back to look him in the eye, which was a clear sky-blue again. “I need to talking with him.” She tilted her head in an inviting way. “You come with?”

“Sounds like a date,” he quipped, grinning when she smiled.

 

~*~*~

 

“Uwe, pal,” Tundra shut the office door behind him and Nyima, and froze the lock so they wouldn't be interrupted “I heard you were trying to dose my girlfriend.” He leant back against the door and folded his muscular arms over his broad chest, straining the cloth of his sleeveless shirt.

Uwe's eyes went to Nyima, unable to help skimming her form head to toe, taking in the orange shorts and top, lack of other adornment and hair tied up off her face. “You're supposed to be on a mission. Back already?”

“Haven't left,” she replied, voice lacking tone. “I will soon.”

“You could've given me that bottle back, then,” he complained, deciding to blame her for how things went the day before. “If you had, he––” he flicked his fingers in Tundra's direction “––wouldn't have drank it instead.”

“I didn't like him that way, but it better he did. He save me from your touch,” she replied in a frigid voice. “Scyanatha target practising you was enough, you think?”

“I'm a High Elder,” Uwe reminded her, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. “You can't kill me.”

“You can be replaced,” Tundra pointed out. “We've got enough of the potion left to show Chiyoko exactly what you were up to, and I really doubt she'll have your back once we do.” He stepped forward and cracked his knuckles. “We're just carrying out the sentence before the trial.”

“I'm an aufhocker! I'm immortal!” Uwe shrieked, snatching up a dagger from the desk and brandishing it.

“Why worry then?” Nyima said, eyes filled with intent. She glanced at Tundra and asked, “You said you rip his spine for me. Can you?”

“The spine one?” he echoed, smirking at the carnal look in her eyes. “You're really interested in that, aren't you?”

“Yes,” she replied, dropping his gaze to make a sweep of his body. She gestured with one hand and froze Uwe's feet to the floor, as he tried edging away from them. “You must be strong,” she added with a coy smile.

“Who knew the way to your heart was through someone else's spine?” Tundra joked to break the tension. Nyima bit her lip and he got distracted by the idea of doing that for her.

“Jingyi?”

“Yeah.” He moved into position and clapped a hand over Uwe's mouth as he started screaming. He took his hand back, leaving a gag made of ice behind. “I only get one go at this, so watch closely.” He flexed his fingers, then paused. “This will be messy.”

“We go after.” She understood his dislike for blood and guts, despite being able to rend things limb from limb. “I should being leaving for the village soon after, anyway,” she said, looking at him with regret. Now he was back to his usual self he was much more appealing to her. She had to restrain herself from touching him. The muscles of his arms tensed and relaxed and she swallowed, tearing her gaze away. _He is far too sexy._

“Fair enough,” he said, plunging his open hand into Uwe's back and making a twisting motion with his wrist. For a change his aim wasn't to kill, so he didn't quite sever everything he could. If Uwe really was immortal then spending the rest of eternity in that state was the perfect punishment. He yanked his hand back out along with the length of vertebrae, which he looked at with surprise. “Figured he was spineless already.”

Uwe collapsed, shrieking behind his gag and Tundra threw the bones on top of him.

“Stop whining,” Nyima snapped, voice empty of sympathy. “You immortal. Grow back.” She crouched, avoiding the pooling blood spilling from Uwe's wound. “Don't touch what not yours.”

“That's asking a lot,” Tundra quipped, taking a step back and offering her his unbloodied hand. “I'll walk you out.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Ew! And that impressed you?” Vyxen pulled a face when Nyima recounted the spine ripping incident after returning from her mission. They were up on the high wall surrounding Las, along with Zercey.

“Yes,” she replied, trying not to sound too breathless. The second they were out of Uwe's sight in the empty hallway she'd grabbed Tundra and planted a torrid kiss on his lips. He'd left a bloody handprint on her ass, that she didn't notice until a child in the village pointed and asked about in a loud voice.

“Uwe got taken to the infirmary,” Zercey said. “Ayasha said it'll take at least three months for his spine to grow back and that's before he has physiotherapy to learn how to walk again.”

“Good,” Nyima stated, without regret. “How is Jingyi?”

“Not moping about and calling you his Goddess, if that's what you want to know,” Vyxen snickered.

“Yes,” Nyima replied, relieved. He'd seemed himself that morning, but she'd not really had time to check.

“The boys and Inari were teasing the hell out of him last time we saw him,” Zercey said, giggling at the memory.

“Yeah, he knows all about calling you Goddess and the rest.” Vyxen couldn't help but laugh again.

Nyima winced. “That was bad,” she said.

“Poor guy, declaring his love and there you are cringing,” Zercey teased.

“It isn't real.” She refused to feel bad about it.

“I don't know, he did buy you a ring,” Zercey reminded her.

“For Twelve Nights,” Nyima countered, referencing the festival of exchanging a series of Quality gifts between couples in the run up to Imbolc.

“He proposed with it,” Vyxen threw out in a sing-song voice. “It was so pretty, too!”

“Yes,” Nyima admitted, wistful. After she'd thrown Tundra out of the hut she'd spent longer than she wanted to admit sitting there staring at it. For a human custom it wasn't so terrible. Once Inari revealed what the gemstone meant it seemed even more special. Fortunately, she was practical enough not to get attached to trinkets. “Now it's cursed.”

All three of them pulled matching expressions of disgust.

Another team arrived to take over from Vyxen and Zercey at that point, leaving the trio free to return to the cottage.

 

~*~*~

 

“There's my dulcet love!” Tundra declared, making a sweeping arm gesture when Nyima entered. On seeing her freeze he chuckled and said, “Too soon?”

“Not funny,” she said, sighing with relief and going to sit at the table.

“It's a little bit funny,” Zercey said, giggling at the pair as she passed.

“At least if I'm making fun of myself you guys can't do it,” he replied smugly.

“Oh no, we'll definitely gonna make fun of you,” Vyxen said. “It's too good to pass up.” She put on a mocking version of Tundra's voice and made huge dramatic gestures as she said, “Oh my Goddess, my love, my angel of the north doesn't love me anymore! I should throw myself on my sword!”

“There's no way I said I was going to stab myself,” he said over the peals of laughter.

“You did,” Lerki revealed. “We had to tie you to a chair.”

“Seth sat on you,” Kinsa added.

“That's not telling me everything.” He looked at Date, who'd done most of the retelling.

“I wasn't here for some of it,” Date argued. “I'm not here to chronicle your life story.”

“Did you tell him he proposed to Nyima?” Vyxen grinned when Tundra gaped at her. “Guess not.”

“With what?”

“A ring,” Nyima stated, eyes going to his wrist-guard.

“Can I talk to you?” Tundra went over to the door and opened it, not waiting to see if she agreed or not.

Vyxen squealed and grabbed Nyima's arm. “He meant it!”

Shooting Vyxen a doubtful look, Nyima prised her friend's fingers from her wrist and followed Tundra out and around to the ice hut, feeling a sense of deja vu.

 

“What happened to the ring?” he said the second they were alone.

“Inari,” she replied. “Turned it cursed.” Seeing his brows come together she added, “I – he put purple cloud – in you to it. It's up their sleeve.” It was hard explaining something that complicated without getting emotional.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“You say it's a Quality gift,” she repeated what he told her. “Didn't want me to having it?” She didn't think he could lie under the spell, so she was curious what the reason was for his behaviour now.

“It was for Twelve Nights,” Tundra confirmed. He drew in a deep breath, as though needing a pause to decide whether to reveal more. “I thought it had too much intent,” he said at last. “I guess I was right, seeing as my crazy self decided it was a worthy engagement ring.”

“My people don't ring,” she commented in the following silence, unsure what else to say.

Tundra started shifting his weight back and forth, a sure sign he was feeling awkward.

“I say no,” she said, turning away so she wouldn't have to see if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Because of the spell?” He sounded relieved.

“Yes,” she replied, keeping things simple. In other circumstances she wasn't sure what she would say. Apart from the annoying endearments and over the top declarations it was quite nice hearing Tundra say he loved her. She knew it wasn't real, though, and likely never would be. He told her what he wanted at the start of their relationship and she was smart enough not to force the issue. Her people didn't change their minds once they were made up, so why should he be any different?

“Right,” Tundra said slowly. “So, we're okay?” Their relationship at that point in time was best described as “complicated”. They were dating and occasionally sleeping together when the urge took them, but there was an emotional distance that was hard to bridge.

 _I hate that word. What is okay?_ “Yes, we're okay,” she replied, shrugging. She turned to find him standing closer than expected.

“Good,” he whispered, taking a risk and pressing his lips to hers in a brief kiss. “Didn't we only take care of half the perverted duo?” he said, drawing back.

“The others fixed him,” she replied, placing her hands on his abs. “He got no clothes, liubul'k eating stuff and glue curse.”

“A glue curse?” Tundra smirked, as his hands slowly caressed her waist. “So, whatever he picks up he can't put down. That's childish and annoying. Who came up with that one?”

“Inari. They said they'll remove it in a month, if they remember.” She drew in a breath as Tundra's finger traced the waistband of her shorts.

He chuckled, then grew serious. “How badly did I upset you with all the stupid things I said?”

“I'm good,” she replied, eyes growing heavy as his other hand slid up her spine to the ribbon tying her top closed.

“So, you wouldn't object to me doing this?” He tugged on it and she felt the fabric go slack.

“No,” she whispered, deciding holding back from him hadn't done her any good. She slid her hands under his tunic and up over his torso. She arched up for a kiss, pressing her lips against his and urging them apart.

“Did you like the ring?” he asked between kisses.

“Yes.” She wasn't really interested in continuing their conversation at this point and showed it by stripping his top off and leading him to bed.

 

 

 

 


	4. Good Morning (Tundra/Nyima)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After camping out Nyima decides to take the initiative

 

Nyima was up early, which was nothing new. She had risen before the sun for as long as she could remember. The tribe broke their fast in darkness and packed up their belongings ready to trek across the vast, frozen wilderness before the sky began to lighten. To this day she could not sleep in, not that she tried very hard.

Unpinning the roll of tarp she'd used to cover the doorway of her shelter and folding it up, she couldn't help but smile as she caught sight of Tundra's shelter. He made a good attempt forming an ice hut, but lacked imagination. It was a tent made of ice.

He appeared and she watched as he yawned and stretched, her crystalline eyes unashamedly taking in every minute muscle movement, as well as the unguarded expression on his face.

 _I want to kiss him._ Her cheeks turned bluer at the thought. Though they had kissed before, he was the one initiating. The memory of it sent her stomach into a flurry of flutters. She could clearly recall the words he'd said, his lopsided smile and then, finally, the moment he brought his lips to hers.

Tundra noticed her at last. “Hey, good morning.”

She inclined her head, heart pounding as she considered how he'd react if she walked over and offered up her lips. He'd be surprised, definitely, but pleased, and there was no reason for her not to do so; they were a couple, after all.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded, chiding herself for over thinking things. She was starting to understand why courtship was left up to the men in her tribe, but it also seemed lazy and lacking in ardour. And the fact was she did want Jingyi. She closed the distance between them and tilted her head back to look in his eyes. “I having been thinking about how I was never kissing you.”

His eyebrows shot up at that. “We have,” he replied hesitantly, as if worried saying the wrong thing would prevent what he thought might be happening.

“You kiss me. I done not kiss you,” she said in a plain voice.

Tundra chuckled. “Same thing, isn't it?”

Nyima smiled slowly and shook her head. “Is still to being kissed,” she agreed, recalling how very much she liked that result, “but it's different.”

“How so?” He stared, blue eyes fixed on her as if he couldn't believe he was having this conversation.

“You like me,” she stated with a coy smile. “You saying the nice things and looking for towards me. You give me gifts.” She took a step forward, bringing them into more intimate contact. “So, I was being thinking to show you how much I like you back.” She saw him swallow and heard the breath he drew in. If she asked she believed he'd leap from a cliff for her in that moment. It was a heady and powerful thing to know how desired she was by this man. It almost felt like she was sleep walking as she slowly slid one hand up over his torso to drape around his shoulder, curling her fingers into his short, dark hair and urging his face towards hers. The other hand she pressed against his heart, feeling the thudding rhythm beneath her palm and knowing her own beat just as swiftly. Touching her lips to his, she felt the slightest warmth, which was echoed when his hands gripped her waist. It sent a strange craving through her and she sighed softly. First she was teasing, grazing his mouth with hers in a gentle manner. Then, when he realised this wasn't going to be some awkward fumbling, she became more insistent, indulging in a deeper caress. Their lips slid against each other, coaxing mouths open. She was tentative and shy, indulging in touches, then drawing back before returning for more.

Tundra didn't move his hands from her waist, though hers flexed and fondled his muscular torso. She pressed against him, urging him to hold tighter. His arms went around her, with one straying down to cup her buttocks and the other sliding up to grasp the nape of her neck. She moaned into his mouth and undulated her hips. She lost herself in his kiss. In him.

When she eventually drew away she smiled and said, “Now you being knowing.”

Tundra's hands slid from her as she stepped back, and he said faintly, “Good to know.”

 


	5. Socks (Tundra/Nyima)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Yule in Illthdar and everyone's busy making or buying gifts. Tundra starts to feel neglected when Nyima avoids him so she can work on his present.

“I love Yule!” Vyxen bounced around the market place, skipping from stall to stall, oohing and ahhing at everything she saw. “Do you think ToshiYoshi would like these?” She held up a set of spinning tops.

“Those are children toys?” Nyima glanced to Scyanatha for confirmation and she nodded, smiling.

“I think they would like them. As I recall, Toshiiro needs to redeem his honour from their last match.” She covered her mouth as she tittered.

“ _Ehn!_ I'll get them!” Vyxen went over to the vendor and engaged in some intense haggling. She wanted to get her money's worth, so that any extra could be spent where it was truly needed: on companion food.

Nyima was listening and taking mental notes of things her friends said they liked. She had almost everyone figured out, with the exception of Jingyi, who admitted to, “Being cool with anything.”

It wasn't a helpful answer. She refused to accept failure and, since asking him didn't get results, she supposed asking her friends couldn't hurt. “Scyanatha,” she began with caution, knowing her tendency to mischievous teasing, “I am being having some trouble.”

Scy's mirth filled eyes sobered. “Whatever is the matter, dear?” she said in a concerned voice.

“Nothing terrible,” Nyima replied, trying to make the subject seem less important to her than it was. “Only, I do not knowing what to get Tundra for Yule.”

A smile tilted Scy's lips upwards. “The simplest thing to get him is yourself,” she said in a hinting way. “Perhaps buy some new ribbon and invite him to your bed with the intention of him undoing the wrapping.”

Nyima's face coloured at the thought and she shook her head. “That's no a gift.”

Scyanatha's voice dropped to a husky tenor and a wicked smile played about her mouth. “You would be surprised how easily pleased men are when one dons a bow and nothing else.”

“I do not wanting him to being easily pleased.”

The simply spoken answer elicited a tinkling, bell-like laugh.

Having no idea why that answer was amusing, Nyima stared blandly at Scy until she grew serious again.

“Have you asked him what he might like?”

“He is having no preference.” Her brows drew together; she would not be happy celebrating Yule if she didn't have the right gift. Scyanatha's solution wasn't terrible, but it wasn't _special._

“I'm back!” Vyxen bounced up to them, chirping happily about the deal she'd gotten, plus a couple of other things for Zercey and Lerki. “Isn't this the cutest?!” She shoved the embossed notebook under the other women's noses, beaming at her find. “And I got a matching one for Lerki!”

“They're lovely, dear,” Scy complimented. “Does Lerki use notebooks?”

“He will now!” Vyxen waved away the possibility of it not being the right gift. “It matches Zercey's and if they match then they match and they're perfect for each other!”

Even Nyima found this logic amusing, letting out a small puff of laughter.

“They are!” Vyxen insisted. “They're the most matchy and cute and I ship it!”

Nodding her agreement, though Nyima had no idea what “I ship it” meant, she wondered if Vyxen would have any ideas about what gift to get Tundra.

“Yourself! Wrapped in a bow!” she replied in a decisive voice, looking to Scy in question when this elicited more laughter.

“I am afraid that idea has already been dismissed,” she revealed.

“But why? You look so cute in all your pretty ribbons anyway and I bet Tundra would be happy enough with that!” Vyxen punctuated her speech by poking Nyima in the side and snickering.

“I don't wanting him to being 'happy enough',” Nyima replied, edging away. “I'm wanting a gift that is like you having for Lerki and Zercey.” Realising she might have revealed too much of her feelings, she quickly excused herself from her friends before they could tease her further.

 

~*~*~

 

After the trouble the past year held, Nyima wanted to show she appreciated Tundra, and thought of him as more than a bed partner. She'd been thinking of him as more than that for some time now, but hadn't been able to broach the subject. Every time she felt like there was a chance she remembered his words when they were in the Northern Mountains. He'd revealed he only wanted a casual relationship and it stuck in her mind. He was right at the time, they both had other goals to work towards, but it being put that plainly hurt more than she would ever admit. She hadn't argued. Why end something for such a pointless reason as them not being on the same page? Either way, both of them weren't staying in Illthdar permanently. Another harsh reminder came far too quickly on top of those words when Tundra was snatched back to his own realm. It left a lasting mark on her heart that still ached when she thought of it.

Even now, it was so hard for her not to mind. Whatever he heard when she spoke of her people's ways hadn't come together in a full picture for him. Her people make matches quickly and couple for life. They don't have premarital sex or be unfaithful. She thought it was clear, but maybe not. Perhaps his memory was faulty, as had been proven on more than one occasion. Fortunately, he had her to remember the small details. As a unit they were almost unstoppable. As a couple...there were still problems.

Nyima sighed. It was why she'd wanted to get the perfect gift for him, to show that she wanted to move past this sticking point. To be on surer footing together. She rolled her eyes. She couldn't even put into words privately how she felt, so it was no wonder she couldn't find a gift for Tundra. Maybe the girls were right to suggest she wrap herself up and be done with the problem.

 

Stopping to get her bearings, Nyima realised she was before a stall that was selling craft supplies. It was one she came to with Abaddon to haggle over bits and pieces they would turn into delicate works of art.

“See something you like?” the faery running the stall called to her.

The beads on her braids clicked together as she shook her head, intent on walking by. Her feet brought her closer, however, and her crystalline eyes scanned the contents on display. “What that?” She pointed at a bowl of glittering blue dust.

“Sapphire dust. It is for alchemic use.”

“And that?” She pointed to something glowing inside a small jar.

“A mana pearl. It will glow for one hundred years, guaranteed.” The vendor smiled encouragingly at her. “You come by with one of my best customers sometimes.”

“Abaddon,” Nyima replied, naming her friend.

“That's the one. If you're going to buy something I'll give you a discount.”

“Because of Abaddon.” She filled in the unspoken part of the sentence.

“And if you bring them by some time when I have my new stock out,” the woman added, her nose twitching at the thought of a big sale.

“If they want,” she replied. “I would not being to force them if they aren't wanting to.”

“All right, I respect that,” the fair-haired faery said. “How about if Abaddon wants to come to market and you mention you've seen I have some things they would like?”

“If they needing to buy more crafting things, I can.” It didn't seem as though she was encouraging her friend to waste their money unless they were intending to spend it anyway, so she couldn't see a problem with passing along good information.

“Fair trade then.” The vendor clapped her hands and began bagging up the items for Nyima. “You know what would go perfectly with these two items? Frozen heart.” She dipped her head below the counter and returned a moment later clutching a large, glistening blue rock. “If you carve it right you could shave the ice down to reveal the hot core inside.”

Nyima's brows pinched at the thought of handling something capable of burning her, but then an idea came to mind and she accepted the extra item, with thanks.

 

~*~*~

 

“Are you excited for Yule?” Zercey sat herself down beside Nyima, who was frowning in heavy concentration at the object in her hand, chipping away at it with decisive strokes of a chisel.

“Hmm,” she replied, squinting at her workmanship and turning the piece in her hand to attack it from another angle.

“You've been working on that for days,” Zercey commented, widening her eyes at Vyxen who was bouncing on the balls of her feet out of Nyima's line of vision. “What is it?” she continued a lightly probing voice.

“Nothing for to Vyxen,” Nyima replied in a wry, but distracted tone, chuckling softly at the sigh behind her back.

“Who's it for?” Vyxen could take it no more and almost threw herself into Nyima's lap, trying to see what she held.

“Being careful,” she chided. “I have being working on this for days and do not wishing to start again when I have being nearly finished.”

“ _Niin gaagiizom,”_ Vyxen said, backing up a little, but still trying to see. “Is it for Tundra? After what you said the other day it would be so cute of you to be making him something special!”

“What did you say the other day?” Zercey latched onto the most important phrase, even as Nyima's cheeks darkened in color.

“I saying nothing of being important,” she replied, giving the smaller of the two women a stern look. “Remember, I was being shopping with you, Vyxen.” The words implied she could very well spoil what gifts Vyxen bought.

“You wouldn't,” she replied with confidence. “But, I won't tell,” she promised. “I'll try not to tell,” she added, snickering as Nyima sighed and rolled her eyes, accepting this was as good as could be expected.

 

The door to Seth's cottage opened and he and Tundra entered, greeting the girls and chuckling at some private joke.

Nyima stood and exited out the same door, leaving Tundra staring at her retreating back and finally deciding to confront her on why, lately, every time he entered a room she left it.

 

~*~*~

 

It took Tundra longer than he thought to catch up with Nyima. The second he tried to follow her both Vyxen and Zercey got under his feet and put him to work helping around the cottage. He was only released from servitude when Ona declared dinner was almost ready and Nyima still wasn't back.

“I'll get her,” he volunteered before anyone else could take the job.

“I'll come, too!” Vyxen stuck her hand in the air and grinned gleefully at him when he shook his head.

“It's fine. I can manage alone.”

“ _Kaa.”_ She shook her head. “We'll find her quicker with two!” She made it all the way to the door before he stopped her.

“I don't need help,” he insisted, blocking the doorway with his shoulder and preventing her from slipping out.

“Maybe she doesn't want you to see––” Vyxen stopped before she let the trekadisk out of the bag.

“Doesn't want to see me?” Tundra scowled and nudged Vyxen aside. “In that case I really don't need your help.”

Unable to come up with a counter argument, Vyxen let too much time pass and Tundra got away from her. “I should go after,” she suggested, not wanting to be the cause of the couple having a misunderstanding.

“They'll be fine,” Seth said soothingly. “Has anyone even heard them yell at each other?”

“Nyima does more damage not yelling,” Zercey pointed out, “and Tundra does that thing where he folds his arms and thinks he's some immovable rock.” She demonstrated the gesture and the others laughed.

“Every argument he's ever had he's done that,” Seth chuckled. “He thinks it looks cool.”

“Dork,” Vyxen snickered.

 

~*~*~

 

“I heard you don't want to see me.” It wasn't his intention to come straight out with an attack, but when he found Nyima sitting by an icy fountain, head dipped toward something cupped in her hand, the words slipped out on their own. She had one leg bent up under her and the other hanging down, bare toes arched into the snow along with the trailing hem of the pink skirt she wore, which was slowly darkening as moisture drew up into the fabric.

Her head snapped up and both hands went behind her back, concealing whatever she had. “Who is telling you that?” she replied in a startled and breathless voice.

“Are you going to deny you've been avoiding me?” he said instead of answering.

Nyima shook her head. “Not for why the reason you believing,” she explained. “I'm merely being busy.”

“Bullshit,” he said in a flat voice, folding his arms and levelling her with a look. “It's every time we're not on duty that I see nothing besides your back.”

“Because I am being busy.” She frowned and returned one of her hands to her lap, leaning back slightly on the other.

“Not too busy to spend time with everyone else,” he countered. “I'm starting to think I'm your sex toy you take out whenever you're in the mood.”

“You is the one being saying that we should being casual,” she reminded, not liking where this was going. “What else is do you wanting?”

“We agreed on them,” he disagreed. “And part of being a couple is spending time together.”

“We do,” she said, choosing to ignore the first thing.

“On duty.”

“Which we often having together,” she said, smiling at the point she'd won.

“Which is duty,” he stressed.

Nyima found herself smothering a laugh at how irate he was. “Together.”

Tundra smirked and shook his head slowly. “You're happy with all work and no play?” He came closer and crouched down in front of her, wrapping his fingers around her ankle.

“Did you not just saying you having play?” she replied. “You said you being felt like a toy.”

“Maybe I want to play twenty questions.” He slowly began tracing the contours of her ankle with his thumb.

“What?” Her reply was faint, her focus on the conversation gone.

“Does that feel good?”

The small nod resulted in the hand climbing higher and Tundra shifting over slightly. “Do you want me to stop?”

A sigh and shake of the head had him rising up onto his knees, his hand drawing the hem of Nyima's skirt upwards.

“Are you wearing panties?”

“No.” The barely there whisper had him leaning closer.

Inches from her mouth he asked, “Do you...want to tell me what...this thing is?” He drew back, revealing the item she'd placed behind her back when he arrived. He looked at it with a puzzled expression.

“Jingyi!” Nyima snatched it back and stood. She glared from the carving in her hand to him. “Having it.” She shoved it against his chest, forcing him to take it or it would fall to the ground, then stalked off.

Tundra looked down at what he held, able to examine it more closely now. What he saw made him feel like a heel for ruining what was obviously a heartfelt gift for Yule. She was sculpting the pair of them from some kind of stone, the figures held in a loving embrace. For something so small the detail was very fine and it was no wonder she was consumed working on it. It wasn't finished. He wanted her to.

 

“Sorry.” Tundra sat on the bed in their ice hut and placed the figurine beside Nyima's hand. “Sometimes you feel very far away when you're right in front of me.”

“Sometimes you are feeling that way, too,” she replied softly, picking the figure up and turning it about in her hand. “Do you not liking it?”

“It's beautiful. I was hoping you'd finish it.” His boyish and lopsided smile made her own lips tilt upwards in response.

Her expression grew teasing. “I having been told there is being a more traditional gift.”

“Oh, really? What's that?” Finishing what they started by the fountain wouldn't be the worst present he could get; it'd be better if she was wrapped up with a ribbon.

“Socks.”

“That wasn't even close to what I was thinking,” he confessed, chuckling.

 

~*~*~

 

“EVERYONE, WAKE UP THIS MINUTE!” After bouncing on Abaddon and the girls, and running away before they could get her back for it, Vyxen went into the boys room and threw small, lumpy parcels at them. She retreated, snatching a coat and shoving her feet into boots to do the same to the couple asleep in the ice hut in the garden of Seth's house. She also randomly attacked a tree on her way back in, hoping it was the one Lerki was asleep in, but guessing not when he appeared later without the parcel in his hand, resulting in her having to go retrieve it.

“You were always the first one up on Christmas morning,” Zercey stated when she entered the living area of the cottage, yawning and scrubbing a hand through her green tresses. “Who wants coffee?”

“Everyone,” Kinsa decided in a sour tone, not appreciating being woken up at some stupid hour to open gifts for a holiday he didn't even celebrate.

“Tea for me, thank you,” Scy said, disagreeing with Kinsa. “I do not care for coffee.”

Between them, Ona and Zercey got together food and drink to suit everyone, while the other morning chores were spread out between everyone else.

“I'm being sorry, Vyxen,” Nyima said, once everyone was seated, “but your gift is having an accident.” She held up the soggy parcel she'd managed to prise from Squishy's jaws. The bailukee was woken by the gift hitting her side and assumed it was something for her to chew on. Most of the paper had come off, but Nyima hadn't wanted to open it fully before it was time.

Vyxen snickered. “It's ok, you'll just have to wash them before you can wear them.” She then clapped her hands. “Come on, everyone, open them and you have to wear them!”

“Too small to be a p'ake sweater,” Seth said what they were all thinking, recalling the last time they'd been told to wear whatever Vyxen bought them.

“You did look lovely in it, beloved,” Scy complimented, lightly tracing her fingertips along his forearm, as though he had the item on.

“I'll go,” Tundra offered, figuring whatever it was couldn't be that bad. Paper removed, he held up a pair of black socks with green trim. “See?” he said to the others, who were in various stages of amusement. “Not that bad.”

“You might want to take a closer look,” Zercey offered.

Turning the socks around he smirked at the sight of a liubul'k's face on the front of them, its red tongue hanging out comically. “Thanks, Vyx,” he chuckled.

“You have to wear them!” she shot back. “Now.”

“Can I wait to see what everyone else has first?”

“ _Ehn.”_

Since Nyima's were mostly open anyway she finished the job Squishy started and held up a knee-length pair of blue and cream patterned socks. The tops had a very unimpressed face staring back at her that looked very familiar.

“Damn, I'm glad you don't wear socks in bed,” Tundra muttered. “Having those staring back in the middle of something would kill the mood.”

Nyima blushed, ducking her head and stifling a laugh. “Thanking you, Vyxen.”

“I didn't look where I was throwing,” she giggled back. “Birbs next!”

“I am not wearing these,” Kinsa stated, having guessed everyone was getting comedy socks and refusing before he'd even opened the parcel.

“It would be rude to refuse,” his mother said, brow creasing softly.

“Listen to your mother,” Seth chuckled, hoping he was right about what companion footwear Vyxen picked up for the brothers. He'd caught sight of them on sale a few days before and thought how funny it was that even in Illthdar people gifted socks for the holidays. He'd be fine wearing whatever Vyxen bought for him if it meant he got to see Date and Kinsa wearing something ridiculous.

Ripping the paper off with little care for what was inside, and earning a sharp look from Date for it, Kinsa revealed a set of bright pink knee-high socks with a cat's face on them. “What is this abomination?”

“Kucinganak,” Lerki supplied, recognising one of his companions. “They make very good trackers.”

Vyxen, Zercey, Imogen and Scyanatha didn't even try to hide the fact they were laughing, their various timbres mingling together, Nyima coughed and excused herself and the rest of the table spent several minutes bantering back and forth over how pretty Kinsa would look.

 

A set of p'ake and eitercopp socks were placed on the table when Nyima returned and retook her seat.

“Eitercopp is my companion and, although the flowers do not seem to match anything they would normally like, they do seem very happy,” Lerki said in response to the male teasing.

“Adil's gonna start thinking I'm turning into one of him,” Seth laughed and shook his head at the p'ake socks.

“Adil's the most cute, so that's no bad thing,” Vyxen replied.

Seth pulled a face. “Come on, Venus, not the cute thing again.”

“You're super cute!” she chirped, giggling as the others began teasing him.

Imogen and Zercey opened theirs at the same time and enthused over the trekadisk and veiko stockings they were given.

Scyanatha donned her shadowfax set the moment she finished thanking Vyxen for them, running her hands up the fine wool and winking at Seth. “Would you like to feel how soft they are?”

“Get it later, Scy,” Vyxen snickered, “we haven't finished giving presents yet!”

The set of pegasus socks were described to Abaddon once they opened them. “They sound very pretty, thank you.”

Inari flicked their fan up to their face to hide their expression after opening the cream and red striped ajidamoo ones they were given. “I shall have to find an outfit to complement them,” they said.

Ona's cheeks turned pink when she was gifted with a set of pastel coloured socks that reminded her of the destructive derrlupp Seth owned. “I couldn't possibly accept,” she said in a quiet voice.

“Nope, no returns!” Vyxen pushed them back into Ona's hands.

“That isn't the only gift you'll get today, mother,” Date said kindly, “so think of it as a warm up for better things.”

“Oh, I couldn't possibly––”

“Of course you can.”

“We won't hear otherwise.”

“You deserve all the good things.”

The girls chorus of support brought tears to her blue eyes. “Very well. Thank you.”

“Who's left?” Tundra said, leaning back in his seat and linking his hands behind his head in a casual manner, though the keenness of his one-eyed gaze said otherwise.

“You know damn well who's left, so don't pretend,” Date scoffed. He knew it was coming, but he'd put it off and hoped he could get lost in the middle, then hoped something would come up so he wouldn't have to open them at all. Now it was too late and everyone was waiting, lips twitching, eyes merry with anticipated amusement.

Habitual scowl in place, he carefully unwrapped the gift and held up exact what he expected to see: a set of powder pink socks with bunny ears and small antlers attached to the side.

“Yours are being a match for with Kinsaburo's,” Nyima commented in an amused voice.

“Pink's your colour,” Tundra added, smirking.

“Very funny,” Date snorted, as the amusement around the table spilled forth.

 

With the joke presents out of the way, although they remained a highlight of the day, especially when Seth and Tundra strong-armed Kinsa into putting his on to amuse the girls – Date hadn't needed any encouragement besides Vyxen staring up at him with wide eyes – the real gifts were passed from giver to receiver either in private moments or when a chance came up. There were gasps and cheers of, “However did you know?” and “This is so perfect, thank you!”

Food was picked at throughout the day and there were several exclamations and cries of, “Rematch!” every time Date or Kinsa was beaten at a game they claimed to be an expert at.

It wasn't until well after sundown, and Nyima was wagging a finger at Squishy for chomping on the leg of the bed, that Tundra realised he hadn't received the statuette she was making for him. He supposed he deserved it when he'd both spoiled the surprise and interrupted her before she'd finished.

“Did you know Vyxen was giving everyone socks?” he commented, balling up the liubul'k ones and tossing them to one side to be washed. He supposed he got off easy, what with the dark color and mildly humorous style.

“I did seeing her at the market eyeing them, but I was thinking she was buying them for herself.” Which she did, but Nyima neglected to count how many pairs Vyxen picked up.

“I don't think I realised how good a sculptor you are until I saw your gifts for everyone,” he added in a subtle way, trying not to seem to obvious about where he wanted the conversation to head.

“I had tried to getting everyone different things,” she explained, cheeks coloring at the thought she'd not put enough effort into her gifts. “Whenever I was getting an idea for something it was already being bought by someone else. Crafting gifts is something I can being doing all alone.”

“Better be careful or you'll end up a famous artist,” he chuckled. “I should get you to autograph mine, so I can say I knew you back when.”

Nyima laughed and shook her head. “I cannot write,” she reminded him. She was enjoying him trying to find out where his gift was.

“Ah. Well, maybe put an X on it for me and I can say you signed it,” he said, shifting his weight from side to side in an awkward manner.

“Jingyi,” Nyima said in a straightforward tone, “would you liking your gift?”

“You gave it to me,” he replied, gesturing to where it had last been.

“I'm knowing how you know I tooking it back again.”

“You finished it?” he guessed, half-wondering what happened to it.

“I did.” Nyima smiled, pleased at the workmanship she'd put into the statuette.

“Can I have it?” Tundra smiled back at her and held his hand out expectantly.

“Box; behind you,” she replied, pointing to the place where she stored the various logic puzzles she owned.

Tundra opened the box and blinked. “Damn,” he said, surprised. Carefully taking the five inch high piece of icy rock out into the light, he found himself staring intently at it. The figures were undoubtedly himself and her. His figure standing half behind her with one hand resting on her hip and the fingers of the other entwined with hers. The poses gave off a sense of familiarity and ease with each other, although the smirk she'd etched on his face suggested something less innocent. Parts of the rock were filed down to reveal the glowing, molten core, most specifically in the area of his right eye, bringing a vivid orange glow to the piece. Other areas were less bright, giving the figures contrast. The final effect that truly made it stand apart was the glittering, blue dust that covered the areas on Nyima's figure where skin would be exposed, and the paler blue glow along his figurine's forearms to represent his frost layer.

“The vendor is saying that it would be glowing for one hundred years,” Nyima said when he asked what she'd used.

“They're right. Those ingredients balance and feed each other.”

“Oh,” Nyima replied, pleased at the thought the statuette would always look the way it did now. “Do you liking it?” she questioned when he hadn't spoken for a few minutes.

Tundra stood up and placed the gift on top of the closed lid of the box, then drew Nyima into his arms. “I thought it was beautiful when I saw it before,” he said. “I know I didn't give you anything to go on for a gift.”

Nyima frowned, disappointed at having got it wrong. “It isn't not what you would having wanted.”

“No,” he admitted, “but when you didn't give it to me I realized I did want it.”

A smile took the frown from her brow. “It is being the right gift?”

“It's from you, how could it not be?”

 

 

 

 


	6. After party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW sex scene between Tundra/Nyima

> With her arm looped through his it was easy to take her hand. Tundra’s thumb rubbed slow circles against Nyima’s palm, tracing over soft skin and the rougher edges of a burn scar. She looked pretty in her party dress. The long skirt made of some crinkly fabric, lay in tiny pleats with intricate beadwork curling about her waist and hips. The corset bodice was an underbust style with a halter strap that drew his eye to her pushed up breasts so much it looked like he developed a tic.  _She looks like a bride in white._  His only criticism. Though, the more he looked the more he questioned if it was.  _She’s beautiful._  His gaze went to her face and a knowing smile touched the corner of his mouth. Her cheeks had a tell-tale and familiar flush. Her lips parted and her breaths were too measured for the relaxed air she cultivated. Tundra drew a figure eight over her palm with his thumb, leaned in and whispered, “You want to go somewhere?” It took half a second for the reminder about her healing injury to hit. “Uh, never mind. It’s not a good idea.”
> 
> Nyima met his gaze, making a slow sweep down and pausing at his mouth.

> Tundra took the hint and glanced around - they were in a quiet enough corner. The scent of raspberries mingled with something unique to her. “Damn, you smell good,” he murmured, drawing closer. He could hear Nyima’s breathing grow rapid. “I bet you taste good, too.” Far too tempting to resist. He didn’t. He captured her mouth with his in a slow caress. Teased her lips apart. Dipped and sipped and drew in her essence. A soft moan from deep in her throat tightened his loins. Warmth spread outward, and he drew back to murmur against her lips, “I want you.”
> 
> “Yes,” she breathed, inching closer. She withdrew her hand from his and laid it against his chest. A slow descent had Tundra’s eyebrow raising, though she paused at his waistband.
> 
> “Nyima.” He kissed her again, teasing a response until they were both breathless and aching. He put his hand over hers and inched it down. “Let’s go.”
> 
> The bedroom door clicked shut and Tundra drew Nyima to him. Leaning against it, he slid his arms around her waist. Hands travelled down to her ass, and he indulged a slow squeeze and press, grinding his pelvis into hers and smirking at her ragged breaths. Her hand cupped his face, and she kissed him, sweet and ardent.
> 
> “Take your clothes off,” came her breathy demand.
> 
> “Yes, ma'am.” He moved her back a step and stripped to his underwear in seconds. Drawing her in again he ran his hands up her arms and to the halter tie about her neck. “Your turn.” A single tug and the expected result didn’t happen. He chuckled when the straps fell slack, but the bodice remained firm.
> 
> “Ribbon,” she murmured, leaning closer and kissing his jaw.
> 
> Breasts crushed to his chest, he couldn’t help squeezing a finger down her bodice and rubbing it over her nipple.
> 
> “Jingyi.”
> 
> The urgent way she said his name turned him on even more. He found the trailing corset ribbon and pulled the bow loose. The dress fell to her feet, leaving her naked. “That’s my girl,” he said with relish, repeating the earlier move cupping her ass and grinding into her. His pants joined the rest of their clothes on the floor, while they backed towards the bed.
> 
> No clichéd fall, Tundra was too mindful of Nyima's injury for that. He waited for her to sit, then eased a knee between hers, parting her legs. The other joined it and he leaned over, planting a hand on the mattress. Her cheeks flushed a startling shade of blueberry, he lowered his gaze to the rapid rise and fall of her chest. He looked his fill, fingers tracing the curving line of the scar on the outside of her thigh, heading up and across to delve through springy coils of deep blue hair. She was wet and aching.
> 
> "Jingyi." Her mouth sought his attention. 
> 
> His tongue drew patterns with hers, mimicking the deft movement of his fingers. He swallowed her gasps and moans, tasted desire and went back for more. 
> 
>  She arched and writhed, touched every part of him she could reach. Breaking away, she gasped, "Jingyi!" Her fingertips dug into his bicep and hip. 
> 
> He stopped and drew his fingers to his mouth. "You do taste sweet," he whispered, kissing her and resuming petting. 
> 
> Nyima moaned, undulating her hips. "Take me!" 
> 
> "Soon," he promised, sensing her body tensing as she approached the edge. 
> 
> "Jingyi!" 
> 
> The plaintive cry accompanied him moving his hand away. He focused on her lips, her neck and breasts. A gentle tease to keep her desirous, but without reaching satisfaction. The scent of her skin drove him mad. The faint tang of raspberries mingled with something fresh and cool like a winter breeze. He wanted to lose himself in her. Indulgent kisses led down. Sweet, teasing nibbles that made her squirm and laugh. Laughter turned to gasps as his lips closed on a nipple, tongue rasping and lapping. His thumb teased the other, rolling and tweaking. He kissed his way down. Dipped his tongue into her navel and smirked at the smothered giggled. His eyes slid to her face to find her biting the knuckle of her index finger. Her chest mottled shades of blue, her cheeks flushed and braids askew, she looked the most gorgeous creature he'd ever seen. Aligned with her hips, Tundra paused. He tapped a jaunty rhythm against her and heard her suck in an anticipatory breath. 
> 
> _"Seha,_ stop teasing." 
> 
> Tundra slid a finger in and replied in a thick voice, "But watching you squirm is hot." A slow retreat and advance, then he placed his mouth on her. 
> 
> Nyima rocked her hips in time with his thrusts. 
> 
> His tongue drove her to the precipice with ease, then he pulled back again. "How do you want me?" He licked his lips, then swallowed surprise as Nyima dragged him to her for a scorching kiss. The different tastes of her mingled on his tongue, a quixotic ecstasy. 
> 
>  One hand grabbed him by the hip while the other slipped between him to take hold of his throbbing member. Before he had a chance to do anything she'd angled herself and had him at her entrance. "No more teasing," she said rocking her hips. 
> 
> Seated in one thrust, Tundra half-closed his eye as sensation rolled through his body. "Delicious," he murmured against her mouth, indulging more kisses. Slow thrusts built, the sound of Nyima's pleasure drowned out his lower pitched moans. Tension coiled, tighter until he felt that starburst of spasms. "God, yes!" Rapid fire thrusts pushed her over to join him. A crescendo of satisfied moans as she gave in to waves of pleasure. Limbs turned to liquid, and he dropped his head to the crook of her shoulder, drawing in the scent and taste of her sweat covered skin. Panting breaths and a slow slide of his hands echoed her movements. 
> 
> She touched, caressed, kissed. She rubbed against him, and he wished he had the energy for more. The feel of her addictive. He'd never get enough.


	7. After Party (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirror piece to accompany the last chapter as seen from Nyima's pov.

> Nyima smiled, enjoying the dancing even though she wasn't in a fit state to join in. Standing beside Tundra, she had her arm looped through his. His fingers slid over her palm and drew patterns on her skin. It tickled, but also put warmth in her belly. Her eyes slid to the side, straining to look at him without turning her head. His typical attire was attractive enough, but in a formal suit he looked dangerous and sexy. The cut followed the contours of his muscled form and she felt her heart rate increase the longer she stared. Not that it stopped her. Even when he caught her looking. She swallowed, eyes going to the corner of his upturned mouth.  _I want to kiss him._ The thought made her draw in a breath, trying to calm herself. Their location wasn't ideal for the direction her thoughts headed.
> 
> Tundra drew a figure eight over her palm with his thumb, leaned in and whispered, “You want to go somewhere?”
> 
> _Yes. So much._ Parting her lips to reply, he cut her off.
> 
> “Uh, never mind. It’s not a good idea.”
> 
> _Why?_ She felt bereft at having him dangled in front of her and then stolen away, though he went nowhere. Her eyes looked their fill.  _I want to kiss you._ She found herself captivated by his mouth.  _Kiss me._

> As though he read her mind, Tundra moved closer, murmuring, “Damn, you smell good.”
> 
> The minor warmth emanating off his body made her sway with need. She didn't like heat, but she liked his. It was pleasant and enticing. It came with the faintest scent of cleanliness.  _Kiss me._
> 
> “I bet you taste good too,” he whispered, right before he pressed his lips to hers.
> 
> _Yes._ She leaned in. Pressed her hand against his chest and delighted in his strength. His gentleness. Him. She hummed with pleasure. Let herself grow heady with arousal.  _I want you._
> 
> “I want you,” he echoed, speaking the words against her lips, so she didn't know where his ended and hers began.
> 
> “Yes.” No doubt. She wanted him.Needed him.She withdrew her hand from his and smoothed it over his torso.  _I want you._ Of their own accord, her hand moved down. She stopped, eyes widening, cheeks burning.  _We can't do this here. What am I thinking?_ Her fingers grazed his waistband. Longing made her knees weak. She wanted to demand he take her to bed, but the words caught in her throat.
> 
> “Nyima.”
> 
> Another kiss and she almost swooned like a weak-willed maiden.  _Why does he affect me this way? I want him so much._
> 
> He smiled as though he read her mind and said, “Let's go.”
> 
> ~*~*~
> 
> The door closing with a quiet click set Nyima's heart racing. Her eyes devoured Tundra as he leaned against it.  _Does he know how sexy he is?_ She thought he must, else the nonchalant sex appeal was wholly unfair on her. Just the feel of his hands catching her dress, dragging it to crease, as they slid around her waist was enough to make her ache. His hands moved down, and he squeezed her rear, pressing her closer to his growing erection. _Oh._ Her hand moved to his cheek. Feeling braver in private than she had in the ballroom, she kissed him. Warmth enfolded her and spread. She rocked against him. Stole breath and returned it. A sweet wine taste lingered on his lips. She wondered if he drank it anticipating it would sweeten their kiss. Her heart thumped. Hard. “Take your clothes off,” she whispered in an ardent demand. She itched to touch him. Everywhere. She was greedy for the feel of him.  _I want you now._
> 
> “Yes, ma'am,” he replied.
> 
> She knew he had no clue how much of a turn on it was when he said that. A soldier's obedience became a lover's tease. He had a clever tongue, in more ways than one.
> 
> “Your turn.” He stripped before she could blink, and Nyima found her lips lifting in amusement when he tried to drop her dress in one move.
> 
> He chuckled and ducked his head, embarrassed or bashful, she couldn't tell. He looked adorable. She adored him.
> 
> “Ribbon,” she murmured, leaning closer and kissing his jaw. The sudden insertion of a finger into her bodice, accompanied him teasing her nipple. “Jingyi.” Her eyes widened, and she drew a sharp breath. Her dress loosened and dropped to a heap on the floor. Cool night air kissed her naked body. Warmth assailed her from the front. Trapped between the two, she never thought she'd admit to wanting heat. Desiring to have it consume her.
> 
> “That's my girl,” Tundra said with relish.
> 
> Nyima didn't think she could blush more than she already was. Their pelvises rubbed together and she could feel the damp patch she left behind on his underwear. Before she could get embarrassed he ditched them and they backed to the bed.
> 
> ~*~*~
> 
> A solicitous hand helped her sit. It was charming and unexpected, but it worked on her. She wanted to pull him to her, roll him under her and ride him until oblivion. Instead, Tundra stuck a knee between her legs and spread them. She bit her lip and wanted to hide. She could feel his eyes on her.  _Too much. He's looking everywhere._
> 
> He leaned over her and she lay back. The hand next to her shoulder looked starkly masculine compared to her more feminine features. He was broad and muscular and strong.  _Sexy. Beautiful. Mine._ His other hand lingered drawing a line up her thigh. She held her breath, waiting. Waiting.  _Touch me._ He did. She sucked in a breath, surprised though she knew it was coming. “Jingyi.” She arched, seeking his mouth. She wanted his touch. She didn't want him to look at her like that. Open and vulnerable. She kissed him because she wanted to and because she didn't want him to have that much control over her. That much power. She couldn't fall any further for him. She'd already reached her limit. He teased her with tongue and fingers. Drowned her in sensation until that's all she knew. She could hear herself mewling with pleasure. Begging for his attention. Grasping and biting and yearning. “Jingyi!”  _I want!_
> 
> Everything stopped.
> 
> Nyima opened her eyes, which grew wider as she watched him lick his fingers.
> 
> “You do taste sweet,” he whispered. Fingers dipped again and his lips joined with hers, passing her own taste. He said she tasted of juniper berries. Not having had them she couldn't argue with his description. The thought put a moan in her throat. She parted her legs further, urging him to take her. A familiar tightening coiled in the pit of her stomach.  _Please, please. I want you._ “Take me.”
> 
> “Soon,” he promised.
> 
> _Close! Now!_ “Jingyi!” She wanted to feel him now. Instead, he withdrew. Focused on her lips, peppering light kisses while she sucked ragged breaths and tried to calm her thunderous heartbeat. She touched as he touched, light, teasing. Her arousal a constant background hum while they petted and explored. He tickled, and she laughed, though it cut short as he played her like a drum.  _“Seha,_ stop teasing.” It was almost too much. The one thing she needed he withheld. If he didn't take her soon, she'd strangle him.
> 
> “But, watching you squirm is hot,” he muttered against her pubis.
> 
> She gasped as his finger slid in and withdrew. Arched as she felt him lick. He devoured her like dessert, but refused the final bite to finish.  
> 
> “How do you want me?”
> 
> Her eyes focused long enough to see him drag his tongue across his lips.  _Enough playing._ She reached for him. Drawn up her body, she sealed her lips to his. No finesse, no style. She kissed with all the passion he raised in her, and more. Legs lifted, her hand went between them to take hold.  _Enough now._ “No more teasing.” She rocked her hips, nudging him into place. Her eyes half-closed as he filled her. It felt good, but she knew he could make her feel better.
> 
> “Delicious,” he murmured, thrusting.
> 
> Rolling her hips in tandem, Nyima felt the rising crescendo build fast. Nudging her towards a finish, then pulling her back made every sensation stronger. More intense. She couldn't hold onto her cries. Pleasure overwhelmed. She was a knot of nerve endings focused in one place. Tighter and tighter. Then, she broke. Incoherent noises drowned out Tundra's words, though she heard his voice. Felt him reach satisfaction.
> 
> Though sweaty and replete, she still yearned for his touch. She ran lazy hands over his body. Rubbed her leg against his thigh. His weight on her felt good. Reassuring and comforting. She hid her smile against hist neck, though she was sure he felt it. 


End file.
